


Blue Archangel

by L_Greene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Greene/pseuds/L_Greene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! Lu Pellegrino and Madman Milligan are in a punk band called Blue Archangel with Loki, Steal, and Sizzler. The problem is they loathe each other. When Madman quits, the band has to find a replacement singer. Bizarre Roché is just the man for the job — but why does he keep looking at Lu like that? Language, sex, and drug use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On My Nerves

Lu closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He _really_ didn't want to haul off and slug Michael like he _absolutely fucking deserved_ right now (only because it would make a scene and fuck up the night), but the temptation was nearly overwhelming. For ten straight minutes, he'd had to listen to the fucker ranting about the venue and the set list and _why can't we get free beer at the show_ and, most infuriatingly, Lu's seeming lack of interest in any of it. He opened his eyes as Michael continued bitching and cast a glance at the other three who comprised his band.

Raphael was sitting behind his drum kit, lazily spinning on his stool. As he spun, the back of his sleeveless leather jacket with the studs along the shoulders and seams swung into view. Ray, as they better knew Raphael, had stitched his stage name _Sizzler_ across the back in red. The asshole—and here, it was a term of affection, because Michael was the only one in Blue Archangel that Lu couldn't stand—was also clearly not paying attention to a word Michael was saying. He was obviously more interested in the décor and tapping on any flat surface he could find with his drumsticks.

Castiel, who they had dubbed Steal at the band's inception, leaned against the nearest amp, absently running his fingers over the strings of his guitar. His own leather jacket was ripped, torn, and held together by safety pins, and his jeans were now more paint than the original blue color. He sighed softly and ran his fingers through his dark hair, messing it up even more thoroughly than it had been before. Castiel's hair was hopeless no matter how much spiking glue Ray and Lu used to try to tame it, so he just gave up on it. He was only half-listening to Michael's steady stream of complaints because he, like Lu, just wanted to continue the fucking rehearsal.

Gabriel, on the other hand, had settled onto the floor near Castiel's feet and just grinned. The smug asshole reveled in chaos and his favorite form of it was witnessing a free-for-all Michael-versus-Lucifer shouting match. Lu sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that right now, but with the way Michael was whining, Lu's last nerves were fraying. Gabriel, who went by both Loki and G-Man onstage, didn't necessarily like to see Lu or Michael in genuine distress, but he confessed that he found their squabbles hilarious at times. He pulled one denim-clad knee up to his chest and leaned forward, tilting his own guitar out of the way for a moment before finally sliding the strap over his head. He shifted his position again to rest his guitar in his lap, still smirking.

Sometimes, Lu really wanted to punch Gabriel, too. Fortunately, this happened much less often than the desire to punch Michael.

Finally, though, Lu couldn't take it anymore. "Michael," he said suddenly, sweetly. Michael shot him a suspicious look.

"What?"

" _Keep your fucking mouth shut unless you're singing, alright?_ " Lu yelled.

"You fucking—!" Michael charged forward, but Gabriel was suddenly there, holding back Michael to keep him from swinging at the bassist. Ray was out of his seat, too, twirling a drumstick through his fingers as though preparing to crack it over someone's head.

"Hey, hey," he said. "Chill out, both of you. We have to get ready for the show tonight, yeah?" Ray held out the drumstick like a pointer, waving it between his feuding bandmates. "Your bickering isn't helping out. Michael, you wasted almost fifteen minutes. Now don't make me come over there."

Lu very nearly smirked at that. "Can we carry on please?"

Michael shot him another withering look as Gabriel released him. "Fine. Let's take it from the top of the fucking set list—which, by the way, is fucking shit!"

"Oh, for fuck's—you're the only one who thinks that, you know," Lu snapped.

"Am I? Cas, do you like this fucking set list?" Michael said, twisting to meet Castiel's blue-eyed gaze.

"It's fine," Castiel mumbled, quickly looking down.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me? Why the _fuck_ are we playing 'Smash Street'?" This, Michael directed back at Lu, who had thrown together the set list since they were, technically, all his songs. "No one fucking likes it!"

"Actually," Gabriel said, holding up a forefinger, "I believe you are, once again, the only one who doesn't like it."

"Yeah, and I'm the fucking one who has to fucking sing it! None of you ass-clowns are about to do it!"

That much, Michael was right about. Castiel had a voice like an angel but he absolutely hated to sing—he hated having that much attention on him. Ray could carry a tune fairly well, but he was behind his drum kit and couldn't be bothered. Also, for how well he _could_ sing, he hated it, and for the same reason Castiel did. Lu, too, could sing pretty well. Not like Castiel or Michael, but at least his voice didn't cause ears to bleed like Gabriel's did. Lu just didn't want that attention, either. He was perfectly content with letting Michael, six feet tall, blue-eyed, heroin slim, baby-faced, be the pretty-boy frontman. He generally had a low opinion of singers anyway, so assigning his least-favorite person to the task was just an added bonus.

"Get _over_ yourself!" Lu barked. "You're such a fucking diva!"

Michael's eyes flashed dangerously and Lu braced himself for the impending punch to the temple, but it never came. Their manager, Jeremy Crowley, appeared out of nowhere between him and Michael.

Crowley was a Scottish import who Blue Archangel had found by pure chance. It had really been because of Lu that they even knew him—Crowley had wandered into the grocery store Lu worked at on the day after Lu got a giant script _FUCK_ on his left forearm. Crowley had joked, "You must be in a band or something," to which Lu answered, "Yes, I am, actually." As it happened, Crowley had been looking for a few local bands to represent and after hearing Blue Archangel in Ray's garage a year before, he agreed to manage them. He'd been diffusing the time bomb that was Michael and Lucifer ever since.

"Hello, boys," Crowley said in that "I-know-something-you-don't-know-and-you-are-not-going-to-like-it-but-it-amuses-me-greatly" tone he was so fond of using on them. "I see we're having a bit of an Angel spat, yeah? Um, I have a suggestion," he said suddenly, as if the idea had just occurred to him. "How about, Michael, you quit acting like a right tosser, and Lu, you quit provoking him, yeah?"

"But he—!" both Lu and Michael started, pointing at each other in a manner reminiscent of brothers trying to blame each other.

Crowley held up both hands in what was probably supposed to be a placating gesture, but it just pissed Lu off further. For the most part, he was fairly likeable and Lu genuinely respected the guy, but right now, so close to the end of his patience with Michael, Crowley was dangerously close to setting him off. "Boys, boys. Shut up. You have a show in four hours, and I would certainly hate it if Lu gave Michael a black eye and ruined that pretty face of his." He quickly tugged the bottom hem of his suit jacket, straightening it, and then brushed off his sleeves.

Lu sneered but thought Michael's looks would only be improved with a black eye. Failing that, a pissed-off, beaten-up Michael would only help their perception as a serious punk band. Besides, Lu would feel a sense of pride knowing that he gave Michael a black eye or busted lip or broken nose.

He and Michael shot each other fiery glares but Michael finally said, "Alright. 'Let It Crumble' it is, then."

Crowley smirked and stepped back as Gabriel slid his guitar strap back over his head.

Michael suddenly screamed, "One, two—one, two, three, four!"

* * *

The flick of Ray's lighter and his sudden inhale drew Lu's attention as the five of them waited backstage for the second opening band to finish and get off the stage. Castiel kept peeking out the door at the crowd and exhaling sharply. "That is a big crowd," he murmured, chewing on a fingernail.

Sometimes, Lu wondered what the fuck Castiel was doing as the lead guitarist of a punk band. The kid—as Lu typically called Castiel in his head even though he was only a year younger than him—was wide-eyed and innocent looking. With his fucked-up leathers and battered, well-played guitar, he looked like a twelve-year-old kid playing Rock Star for the day. And then he let loose one of his ear-shattering chords and Lu remembered. For how young and sweet Castiel appeared to be (and genuinely was), he could play guitar like a motherfucker.

And then Lu wondered what would happen if he pushed Castiel—if he would break or if he would push back.

Michael held out a hand toward Ray, who sighed and dug another cigarette out of his pack. The drummer was still in his sleeveless jacket but he'd switched out his jeans for his leather pants and studded belt, and he'd spiked his hair into a wicked fro-hawk. Gabriel absently fingered his guitar and looked around at everyone. He was probably irritated that his boyfriend hadn't shown up tonight, but it was probably for the best—he tended to smirk a bit too much when he was there.

Finally, though, Crowley returned from talking with the venue manager, a bottle of Scotch in his hand and black suit still flawless. He handed the bottle to Lu, who unscrewed the cap and took a swig before passing it to Castiel. Once the bottle made its way around the band, Crowley picked it back up and said, "Alright, boys. Get out there and piss people off."

They stood up and headed to the stage. Michael hung back for a moment to sweep his shirt over his head and tucked it behind him in the waistband of his jeans. A moment later, he burst out and dashed to the microphone stand. "HEY, PEOPLE, FUCK YOU!" he screamed, drawing jeers and catcalls from the crowd, but it was all joking—at least, Lu was fairly sure it was a joke. He actually wasn't too sure how their fans really felt about Michael, but sometimes it seemed that he was the least popular. He knew Castiel was definitely the crowd favorite, at least among the people who were into guys and guitar players.

"Alright, Madman," Ray said warningly, using Michael's stage name.

Michael went on, ignoring his tone. "It's fucking lame to be here, but we got no choice. Fuck, I don't fucking care. Let's just get on with it. _One, two—one, two, three, four_!"

Fortunately, Lu and Ray were ready for his abrupt count-in and they jumped right into the song. One measure in, Castiel and Gabriel joined in, Castiel shredding his opening chord. Lu very nearly smirked.

_"My city's on fire and I got no water. Even if I did, I wouldn't care. This place is a mess and I can't go home. Even if I could, I wouldn't care, so let it crumble, let the flames surround me…"_

Lu loved his lyrics but hearing Michael sing them irritated him a bit, especially with that snide way he had. He wondered if he layered extra snark on his words just because he knew they were Lu's.

He kept his bass line up but rolled his eyes as Michael went on, prowling around the stage like an animal and screaming into his microphone, blatantly ignoring the feedback squealing through the speakers. To distract himself from the annoyance personified that was Michael, he scanned the crowd and somehow detected this blonde leaning back against a pillar.

The blonde was the only one who wasn't jumping around or screaming along with the crowd. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest. His utter calm in the sea of bedlam made him stand out, drawing Lu's gaze right to him. And then the blonde looked right at him.

Electricity sparked between them, so quick that Lu wasn't quite sure he felt it until the tall blonde smirked. He _definitely_ noticed Lu's attention. He was glad his bass playing was so ingrained into him because he probably would have frozen otherwise. He hated to admit it, but the man was distractingly attractive, his black jacket hugging his shoulders just right and that leer hinting that he'd like to bend Lu over his amp and—

"Fuck, I don't know, this all seems just fucking great and all, but…" Michael's voice cut right through the haze in Lu's head, bringing him back to reality with an unpleasant bump. "But I'm really ready to just call this done right now."

Lu snapped his head toward Michael as the rest of the band did the same.

"You cannot be fucking serious right now," Lu said finally. They'd only played one freaking song! Then again, they didn't just call him "Madman" because it was a play on his middle name being Adam.

Michael threw his hands up in the air and somehow caught a beer someone tossed at him. He cracked it open and took a swig as he started heading backstage.

_The fuck—?_

Even Gabriel looked surprised and annoyed by this turn of events, but Lu was the only one who reacted. Slowly, methodically, he slipped the strap of his bass over his head and set it on its stand next to his amp. Calmly, he followed Michael offstage and grabbed him by his upper arm. With barely a flicker of anger, he jerked Michael around and sank his fist right into his jaw.


	2. Bad Luck

One thing Lu could say for Michael was that he took a punch like a champ. It only took him a second or two to recover from Lu's blow before he was swinging his fist into the side of Lu's head. Even more impressive was that he managed to hold on tight to his bottle of beer. He took a swig but spat it back out as Lu punched him in the stomach. Michael nearly doubled over, finally dropping the bottle, and Lu took advantage of his position by grabbing him by the shoulders and ramming his knee right into his nose.

As Lu released him, Michael suddenly executed an uppercut to Lu's chin, sending the strawberry blonde reeling backward, right into Gabriel, who'd abandoned his guitar and was heading toward them to try to break up their fight. Castiel and Raphael were right behind him, and over Michael's shoulder, Lu could see Crowley running toward them. Lu tried to launch himself off Gabriel and back into Michael, screaming, "Motherfucker!" but the guitarist held him back. No one was holding Michael back, so he was able to take two steps toward Lu, fists raised, but Ray suddenly appeared between the singer and the bassist and grabbed Michael by the shoulders.

"Alright, calm the fuck down, _both_ of you!" Ray said, looking from one to the other. "Gabe, can you take him…?"

Gabriel nodded obligingly and started tugging Lu past Michael, whose blue eyes were alight with fury. The singer tried to charge at Lu again, but Ray had a firm grip on Michael's arms and so was able to keep them separate.

"Jesus Christ," Crowley growled. "It's like trying to work with a pack of animals."

"Fuck you!" Michael yelled at no one in particular as Gabriel continued trying to haul Lu to a different area, but Lu was working on throwing off the guitarist. He had five inches and a good twenty pounds on him, but Gabriel was surprisingly strong. "Fuck every single one of you! No one here fucking listens to me!"

"Maybe we would if you voiced an opinion that wasn't complete bullshit!" Lu called over his shoulder. He ached to slug Michael again, and then he wondered how much damage his bass would have sustained had he cracked it over Michael's head. "I fucking _hate_ that guy," he spat once Gabriel determined they were a safe distance away.

Gabriel half-shoved Lu toward a table with two chairs and took a seat. "I'm not his biggest fan either, Lu, but you fucking assaulted him. Completely unprovoked. What if he presses charges?"

Seething, Lu hopped onto the table and rested his feet on the chair in front of him. "That asshole hit back, and it was _not_ unprovoked. That fucking tool-bag douche-nozzle fuck-tard has been provoking me since the moment we fucking _met_."

"You swung first. He'd call it self-defense. And he'd be right. Look, I'm not saying the asshat doesn't deserve it," he added quickly at Lu's enraged expression, "but he is definitely not going to be happy. Hopefully Crowley can smooth this shit over."

Still scowling, Lu let out a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists for a few moments in a nearly futile attempt to calm himself down. For all their trading of barbed comments, they'd never actually traded punches before. It wasn't that they'd never tried—they had, several times—but someone always intervened just in time, worming their way between the feuding pair. Lu was glad that, at least once, he'd been able to punch Michael in the face. He'd been asking for it for awhile now.

"Michael's flipping out," Castiel said from the doorway, appearing out of nowhere.

"Of course he is," Lu spat. "Why wouldn't he be?"

If Castiel was irritated by Lu's sarcasm, he didn't show it. "He walked out in the middle of a show—actually, at the beginning of a show. We need to finish this thing. We really can't afford any bad publicity right now."

"Let the asshole go home and cool off for the night. We'll finish without him."

"Um…" Castiel suddenly looked worried. "And how do you propose we do that? We can't finish our set without a singer."

Heaving a sigh, Lu stood up. "If need be, I'll do it. I don't fucking want to, but I will."

"That'll be interesting," Ray said with a laugh.

Lu knew what he meant. His and Michael's voices were wildly different. Michael's voice was rough, rather like Castiel's, but with an edge that seemed just made for their kind of music. Lu's voice, on the other hand, was kind of nondescript. It could blend with any style fairly well. The problem was that Michael's voice was their big selling point. For the night, it would be okay, but they needed to get Michael calmed down by their next rehearsal. Lu did _not_ want to make this a regular occurrence, no matter how much he hated the guy.

"Okay, I'm in control now." Lu hopped off the table. "Let's go take care of that ass-clown. Why'd he fucking walk, anyway?"

"He didn't say," Castiel said. "I think right now, he's still fuming. Crowley's trying to calm him down and I think Ray went out to keep the crowd under control."

"Fuck. _Fuck._ " Lu rubbed his eyes. "Okay. We have to get this back on track." He headed out of the room with Gabriel and Castiel close behind him.

As it turned out, Castiel was correct. Crowley was talking quietly to Michael in a corner and they could hear Ray yelling things at their audience. Michael was nodding, appearing to be placated despite the blood dripping from his nose onto his chest. Good. _Maybe we can get back onstage in a minute._ The last thing he wanted was for the crowd to go home pissed.

Although seeing Michael's bloody, possibly broken, nose filled him with an unwarranted sense of pride.

And then Michael caught sight of him. "Hey, fuck you!" he yelled, attempting to shove past Crowley, but their manager was stronger than he looked. He managed to restrain Michael, glancing anxiously at Lu like he was about to charge at them. But he hadn't lied when he said he was back in control. When his temper got the better of him, it was absolutely chaos, but once he was calmed down, it took a lot of pushing to send him back over the edge. Michael, apparently, hadn't quite regained his composure.

Lu just stood there in between Gabriel and Castiel, arms crossed over his chest as he glowered. He was silent as Michael continued yelling and Raphael rushed backstage with a _now what?_ look on his face.

The drummer looked from Lu to Michael before saying, "Mike. Chill out, man. You're the only one here freaking out anymore."

"No! Fuck this! You know what? I'm fucking sick to death of your fucking bullshit, Lucifer!" Michael spat, and Lu felt another surge of annoyance wash over him. Michael only used his full name when he was actively trying to irritate him, and it usually worked. "You're always giving me shit about how annoying I am, how much I whine, but you do it, too! I don't have to put up with this shit! You guys fucking need _me_ —I don't need _you! Without me, you don't have a fucking voice!"_

"Michael," Crowley started, a note of warning in his voice, but Michael refused to stop shouting.

"You know what? Fuck you all! I fucking quit!"

For a several long moments, the sound of silence filled the air, only broken by the noise of the crowd waiting just offstage. Even though they were suddenly without a singer and now they would either have to pick one from the four of them or hold auditions for a new one, Lu felt nothing but relief. Michael _quit_. He could only pray that Crowley wouldn't talk him out of it.

The manager did try, though. "Michael, you can't just—"

"No, let him go," Lu said coolly. "It's better this way. Sure, it'll suck—for all of about ten minutes—but we'll get over it."

Michael sneered and jerked himself loose of Crowley's grasp. In one fluid motion, he donned his shirt and stormed out. "You're a fucking idiot," Crowley snapped at Lu while watching the singer leave.

"We can do the show without him. I'll sing. We just need to have auditions for a new singer very soon. Like tomorrow."

"Great. Fine. This time, when you pick a singer, make sure it's someone you can all tolerate, yeah?"

* * *

When the four remaining members of Blue Archangel returned to the stage, the crowd roared—with pleasure or fury, Lu couldn't tell. He picked up his bass guitar and reluctantly approached the microphone stand that Michael had vacated. "Well, people," he said, blinking in the sudden harsh light, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news—well, actually, it's not really bad news—but Madman just quit." There was a low rumble and the sounds of hushed whispers. "We're still gonna finish our set, but you're just gonna have to put up with hearing me sing." He tossed a glance over his shoulder and motioned quickly for Gabriel to move to the other side of the stage. Their usual configuration had Michael in the middle and Ray right in the back with Lu on the right side of the stage and Castiel and Gabriel on the left. Without Michael and with Lu front and center, the whole setup looked lopsided.

"We're gonna have auditions tomorrow for a new singer, tomorrow at The Warehouse at four. Be there if you want to help us out. Male or female, we don't care—as long as you can sing." _Well, it's now or never._ "One, two, three, four!" The now-quartet launched into their next song, "Dirty Faces."

Fortunately, the rest of the set went by much more smoothly than the beginning, and forty-five minutes later, they were heading backstage. Lu managed to keep his eyes from raking over the crowd too much—he felt himself hunting for that blonde he'd seen earlier. _This is definitely not good_ , he reminded himself. He had a weakness for bad blondes, which explained how he ended up with his current girlfriend, Eve Campbell. She had trouble written all over her—literally and figuratively; she'd gotten "TROUBLE" tattooed down her side for her twenty-first birthday—and Lu couldn't help himself, even though he sometimes hated both of them for it. But this other blonde, the one he'd seen in the crowd, he was definitely trouble.

He was trying to avoid that right now.

But that blonde's eyes always seemed to be on him whenever he happened to glance at him. It was disconcerting.

Backstage, Gabriel and Ray were toweling the excess sweat off their faces, but Castiel had somehow managed to stay absolutely flawless, as always. He was the only one in the band who didn't sweat buckets during shows, and it was one of the few things Lu genuinely envied him for. He felt like a hot mess, in desperate need of a shower. As soon as the gear was packed up in Ray's truck, he hopped into the passenger's seat as Ray slid into the driver's seat.

Eve had totaled his car two months before, and the insurance company hadn't coughed up for repairs or a replacement yet, so he was pretty limited in terms of transportation. Ray was his usual ride and a lot more reliable than Eve. She went out almost every night and didn't come home until three or four in the morning, and she _never_ came to the shows. She didn't like their music and that fact alone was enough to make Lu toy with breaking up with her.

"Good singing tonight," Ray said abruptly as he pulled to a stop in front of Lu's apartment complex.

"Thanks. Hopefully I won't have to do it again."

"Yeah. Have a good night, okay?"

Lu nodded, hopping out of the truck and grabbing his bass and amplifier from the backseat. He slung the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder and headed inside, punching in his code and waiting for the door to open. He went right to the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor. When the doors opened, he shuffled in before collapsing against the side.

Tonight had just fucking drained him. He was ready to just fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours. It was only midnight and, if Eve kept to her schedule, he would be dead to the world by the time she came back. This thought pleased him greatly. Feeling a bit better, he exited the elevator and started down the hall toward his apartment.

 _That's weird…_ There was a pile of stuff in the hall right in front of what looked like his door. _But that can't be—FUCK!_ That was his vinyl collection for sure. Piled up next to it were several trash bags filled with what looked like his clothes, and that was definitely his backpack with his laptop and—

"Jesus!" He quickly set down his amp and bass and dashed down the hall. "Fuck!" He fumbled for his key and started to fit it into the lock when the door opened and Eve, that beautiful blond bitch, was on the other side. "What the fuck?" he demanded.

"I don't think it's working out, Lu," she said sweetly. "It would be better for our relationship if you moved out."

"So you throw my shit in the fucking hallway? Anyone could just take it! How long has this been out here?"

She shrugged. "About an hour. Not too long." She appeared to think for a moment. "Oh, sorry about Mike, by the way. I heard he quit."

"Yeah, he—how did you hear about that?"

"He told me."

 _The fuck—?_ "Since when are you on speaking terms with that asshole?"

She gave him a scathing look. "Maybe _you_ never noticed me, but he did. He is not an asshole, and you can go fuck yourself!"

"Wait, were you fucking him?" Lu demanded as the door slammed in his face. And locked. The lock on the doorknob, then the deadbolt, and then the rattling of the chain.

He should have beaten Michael senseless. Even though he wasn't too upset about the breakup itself, the fact that he'd been fucking his girlfriend was more than enough to piss him off. And then she went ahead and threw all his possessions in the hallway. God only knew if the bitch had gotten everything or if someone had come by and picked up some of his stuff. Fuming and muttering darkly, he pulled out his phone and called Ray.

"Hey, man, what's going on?"

"The bitch kicked me out. Apparently, she was fucking Michael."

Ray let out a low whistle. "Damn. Alright, I'll come get you in a few. I just need to unload real quick. Good thing I have the truck, huh?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"So it's over with you and her?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Good. I never liked her anyway."

Lu rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just hurry up, okay? I'm exhausted."


	3. Anti-Fashion

Lu had crashed on Ray's couch more times than he cared to recall. It was his go-to place whenever he couldn't stand Eve and needed someplace else to spend the night. For obvious reasons, he never asked Michael, and he was always uncomfortable with asking to stay with Gabriel or Castiel—both of them had boyfriends who were over nearly every night, and Lu didn't feel like waking up in the middle of the night when they were going at it. Fortunately, Ray didn't date much and his parents thought he was a good guy, so he usually had first dibs on the couch.

But it wasn't a permanent fix and Lu knew it. Very soon, he'd have to find a new seedy little apartment, somewhere near a bus stop or the subway or by Ray's house. There was no way he wasn't in for an infuriating couple of weeks, trying to apartment hunt in between working, finding a new singer, rehearsing with said new singer, doing shows… _Fuck._ Yeah, this was going to be stressful. He just had to hope that they actually found a singer the next day, because if they didn't, they'd have to take another day to find one or he'd be stuck singing himself.

The idea of just disbanding never crossed his mind. He'd invested too much time and effort—Hell, they _all_ had—for something that obviously worked, and he wouldn't prove Michael right. He refused to let him be the catalyst that broke them up.

Ray shook him awake around eight. "Hey. Hey, Lu. I gotta go to work." Ray, that lucky bastard, had a job at Guitar Center, so in his off time, he could sneak off to the back and rehearse, not that he needed it. He could play any instrument you threw at him and, in addition to being a skilled drummer, bassist, and guitarist, could play the piano, violin, saxophone, and cello. It was all Lu could do to not feel a bit jealous—he could only play bass and enough guitar to squeak by.

"Yeah. Um, okay." Lu was still half-asleep as he tugged his shirt back on and Ray went back to his room. The strawberry blonde tumbled off the couch and blinked sleepily. The fall had jolted him a bit, but it always took awhile for him to wake up entirely. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and started folding up the blanket, yawning as he did so. By the time Ray came back out into the living room, now fully dressed, Lu was just standing up and stretching.

"Hungry?" Ray asked. Lu nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Alright, good. I was gonna stop and get some food anyway. Ready to go?"

Lu nodded again and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Most of the rest of his stuff was still in the bed of Ray's truck because they'd both been too exhausted to even think about bringing it in.

"Jesus," Ray muttered a few minutes later. He dug a cigarette out of his pack and made a face as he stuck it in his mouth. "One left. Want it?"

Lu half-shrugged and reached for it. Ray flicked his lighter and, after lighting his, handed the lighter to Lu. He lit his own cigarette and handed it back.

"This shit is totally fucked," Ray said. He took a long drag as the light turned green and he gunned the engine. "Michael quitting and then your shit with Eve—that's crazy. Completely messed-up."

"At least I didn't lose my job," Lu murmured. He let his cigarette dangle from his fingertips for a moment. "To be honest, there's no lost love with Eve. If Michael wants her, he can have her. I just wish she hadn't fucking kicked me out."

"She was probably squicked-out with the idea of you sleeping in the same bed where she fucked him."

Lu shot him a disgusted look. "Thanks. Now _I'm_ squicked-out. I hadn't contemplated that idea, but now I'm wondering."

Ray grinned, exhaling a steady stream of smoke. "You're welcome. I aim to distress."

They stopped at a 7-Eleven and picked up a couple of breakfast sandwiches. Lu popped them in the microwave while Ray paid for them and bought another pack of smokes. At the last minute, Lu pulled a bottle of Dr Pepper out of the cooler and set it on the counter before fishing a couple of singles out of his wallet and handing them to Ray, who was sliding his debit card through the card reader. "Thanks, honey," Lu said in a high-pitched voice, batting his eyes.

Ray snorted with laughter. "You better watch your ass with that voice."

Lu picked up his sandwich and soda and left the store, swaying his hips as he went. Judging by Ray's mad cackle, he was watching and it made Lu laugh, too. It was strange, but despite everything that had transpired in the last twelve hours or so, he still felt upbeat. He was resilient—it would take a lot more than a douchebag now-ex-bandmate and a stupid now-ex-girlfriend to ruin his mood.

* * *

Six hours later found Lu in the bass section of Guitar Center, perched on a table with a hot little Epiphone bass slung around his neck. He absently kicked at the seat in front of him and started strumming out the opening bass line for The Cure's "Fascination Street." Ray was skulking around the drum area, so Lu had been forced to find some way to entertain himself, and focusing his attention on nailing the song kept his mind from wandering over to the blonde he'd seen the night before—he'd managed to not think about him (too much) over the past few hours. Still, he'd hung out here enough times that the other employees were comfortable with letting him creep around unsupervised.

Someone wandered into his line of sight and he looked up. The customer was looking around nervously, and Lu got the impression he hadn't been instrument shopping before. "What's up?" he asked before he could help himself.

"Um, I was just interested in looking at a bass guitar but…"

"But it's a bit overwhelming, right?"

The guy nodded. Light reflected off his shaved head and Lu resisted the urge to shield his eyes. "No problem. Completely new to the music thing?"

"Well, not completely, but definitely new to the bass thing."

"I recommend a Dean, in that case." Lu pointed to one corner. "Fairly cheap, and excellent quality for the price. I had a lime-green Dean for my first bass. Otherwise, you could end up forking out a ton of cash for what could end up being an expensive door-stop."

The other guy nodded again, looking a bit more relaxed. "Thanks. I honestly don't know anything about basses, so…"

"Yeah, no problem." Lu focused his attention back on the bass in his hands as the customer went to the Dean corner and started looking at them a bit more closely. About ten minutes later, he left with a plain black Dean in his hands and a smug look on his face.

When Ray found him about ten minutes later, Lu immediately looked up. "Time to go?" he asked hopefully.

"Not quite yet. Did a guy come through here about ten, fifteen minutes ago wanting to look at basses?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He said, and I quote, 'That creepy guy playing bass in the back helped me out a lot. You should promote him.' That wasn't you, was it?"

"'Creepy'? What the actual fuck? I am _not_ creepy."

Ray closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I figured. Anyway, I told him that if it was who I thought it was, he doesn't work here, and he seemed surprised."

"Cool. When is it time to leave?"

Ray checked his watch. "Another hour or so. Jesus, you are so fucking high-maintenance."

"Pay attention to me! I'm bored!" Lu whined, grinning.

"It's like dealing with a fucking five-year-old," Ray muttered.

Fortunately, the end of Ray's shift arrived with enough time for them to dash over to The Warehouse. Castiel and Gabriel were already there and so were about twenty people Lu didn't recognize. He scanned the group and felt something—he wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment—when he saw that the blonde wasn't there.

"Hey, guys," Gabriel said cheerily. "What's going on? You ready to find our new frontman?"

"Is Crowley coming?" Ray asked, ignoring Gabriel's question.

The short guitarist shrugged. "Who knows with that guy? He'll probably stop by in an hour or so."

"Let's just start," Castiel muttered, looking over his shoulder at the group waiting to sing.

A half an hour later and they'd heard a few flat-out terrible singers, a lot of decent singers, and one pretty good singer named Pamela Gordon. Crowley swaggered in just as she was about halfway done with a rendition of The Damned's "Jet Boy, Jet Girl" that had Gabriel sniggering behind his hand. "She's good," Crowley said.

"She's the best one so far," Castiel said.

Crowley looked at the four people still left. "Hmm. She'll probably be the best one out of any of this lot. Best style, too."

"Style can be changed. Talent can't," Ray pointed out. "But I agree—she's probably the best we're gonna get."

She seemed to hear them despite their whispers and she grinned. Suddenly, she stared at the door to the side and the band, puzzled, turned to look, too. For a few long moments, there was absolutely nothing. And then the door few open and a sultry voice with a definitively British accent said, "I hope I'm not too late."

Lu's throat went dry. It was the blonde from the night before sauntering in, a cocky smirk on his face and leather jacket stretched tight across his shoulders. _Fuck!_

"No, not at all," Crowley said smoothly. "In fact, I do believe you beat the rush."

The blonde grinned and went to the back to wait with the other handful of hopefuls.

For the next ten minutes, Lu silently prayed that, when the blonde got up to sing, he would be horrible. One by one, the remaining potential singers took the floor and, while one was good and the other three were just okay, none were anywhere near as good as Pamela had been. And then the blonde got up and grinned at them. "Evening, gents. This is Social Distortion's 'Ball and Chain.'" He seemed to smirk right at Lu as he started singing. _"Well, it's been ten years and a thousand tears and look at the mess I'm in—a broken heart and a broken nose and an empty bottle of gin…"_

By the time he was done, Lu was ready to flip the table in rage. This asshole was amazing, much better than Pamela, and judging by the impressed looks his bandmates were shooting the blonde, there was no way they wouldn't hire him. He wished "This guy makes me want to do sick things" was a valid excuse for not choosing him, but he got the feeling that, even then, the other three would just tell him to deal with it.

The worst part was, the guy seemed to be aware of Lu's reaction. Far from being apologetic, it apparently amused him because he never stopped grinning. That grin seemed to say, "Yes, I know I'm a sexy bastard. What are _you_ gonna do about it?"

"Well, I'm sold," Gabriel said cheerfully. "I vote for that guy."

"Second," Castiel said.

"Third!" Ray said. He nodded enthusiastically. And then the three of them looked at Lu.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Why the fuck not?"

"Excellent," Crowley said. "Hopefully you don't end up punching this one in the face, yeah?" Lu pointedly ignored his comment, suddenly intent on studying the lines on the page of the notebook in front of him. He'd started roughing out another song and the words were now swirling in front of him. "So what's your name?" he heard Crowley ask.

"Balthazar Roché."

"Hmm," Ray said. "I hereby bequeath you with the stage name 'Bizarre.' I'm Raphael. Stage name is Sizzler."

"Gabriel. I'm called G-Man and Loki."

"Castiel. They gave me the ridiculous name of Steal."

Lu looked up. "They call me Satan. My name is Lucifer." He caught the amused look on Balthazar's face and was sure he knew what he was thinking: _Your now-ex-singer was named Michael, and he had a quarrel with the bandmate named Lucifer. That is absolutely perfect._ The irony wasn't lost on him, either.

"I'm Jeremy Crowley, the band manager. You can just call me Crowley. So, listen. There's a rehearsal tomorrow night and another gig next Friday. I suggest you free up your schedule so you can get some practice in with this lot." He stood up. "Now, if that's all taken care of, who wants a drink?"

Lu sorely wanted to take him up on that, but he had to work in the morning and he was planning on starting his apartment hunt afterward. He had to be on point. Making absolutely sure to not steal one last glance at their new singer, he headed to the door.

Still, he could feel Balthazar's eyes burning a hole through his jacket as he went.


	4. Moral Threat

Backstage was a flurry of activity as various stagehands rushed around, setting up microphones and stands and amplifiers. In the confusion, it took Lu a moment to realize that Castiel's boyfriend Dean was backstage, his arm slung around the younger man's shoulders. If Dean was here, then his younger brother Sam was around somewhere as well. He was Gabriel's boyfriend, after all. Lu looked around, but didn't see Sam, although he didn't see Gabriel, either. He could deduce where they were and what they were doing fairly well.

Dean and Sam's last name was Winchester, but Lu referred to them in his head (and sometimes out loud, to Gabriel's never-ending amusement) as "the Sinchesters." They'd earned their collective nickname only partly because of how sinfully attractive both brothers were. Sam was the more classically handsome of the two, with his jaw-skimming, honey-blond hair and hazel eyes. He was eight inches taller than Gabriel's five-foot-eight (actually, five-foot-seven and three quarters, but Gabriel insisted on rounding up) and built like a tank, but he was incredibly sweet and self-sacrificing almost to a fault. Dean, on the other hand, was decidedly prettier, almost feminine-looking. His eyes were green and he kept his sandy-blond hair short, but his lips were full, there was a sprinkling of freckles across his nose, and he had an easy smile that could stop traffic. He was six-foot-one, exactly Lu's height, and slighter than his brother. Dean could be mean as fuck when he wanted to be, but he was generally a really nice guy and, before dating Castiel, had been known to have no shortage of interested parties, both male and female. Sam had his fair share of admirers before dating Gabriel (and they both still did) but, unlike Dean, seldom took advantage of that fact.

Lu and Raphael had just arrived and Crowley hadn't noticed them yet. He was too busy talking to Balthazar, who looked utterly relaxed. _He_ had noticed Lu and Raphael's arrival. He glanced at Lu and gave him an infuriatingly gorgeous smirk. Lu was certain that this guy was perfectly aware of the tension he felt. Even more, though, was that he seemed determined only to exacerbate it. Lu could only hope that Raphael didn't notice it.

Fortunately, that was the moment Gabriel and Sam appeared wearing identical smug smiles. Balthazar must have said something to Crowley about it because their manager turned around. "Ah, hello, boys. So glad you could join us. It's not like we don't have a show in twenty minutes."

"Aw, chill out," Gabriel said. "We've been doing shows for months now. We got this." He pulled a sucker out of nowhere, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth. Sam playfully dragged him toward the couch.

"And you would be correct. _You've_ been doing shows for months. But you have a new singer now—" (one who seemed resolute in his attempt to stare a hole through Lu) "—who isn't used to this situation." Crowley went on, but Lu could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. He looked away from Balthazar's blue-eyed gaze, still staring him down, and tried to focus on something else—Raphael heading to the sofa or Gabriel and Sam not paying attention to Crowley either or Castiel and Dean, the former of whom was hanging onto Crowley's every word and the latter of whom appeared to be about to fall asleep. But like a magnet, his gaze was continually being drawn back toward Balthazar.

 _This is so stupid._ It wasn't like he was a fucking horny teenager or something. He had a fair amount of self-control. He just didn't like being teased, and Balthazar was definitely teasing him. The slightly-shorter man still had that confident smirk on his face, like he knew what Lu was thinking. He wanted to punch the fucking smirk right off his face.

Or kiss it off. Abruptly, he began to wonder what Balthazar's lips tasted like, how they would feel against his own. Unconsciously, he licked his lips. He hadn't even realized he did it until Balthazar's smirk became decidedly more amused and he licked his lips, too.

Jesus, how did no one else notice this? They were basically undressing each other with their eyes and no one had commented on it. Not even Gabriel, who was usually all over the opportunity to make fun of one of his bandmates, had said anything snarky. But Lu was also relieved at this fact. It was more than a little embarrassing to get _unbelievably_ turned on by your new lead singer. He just hoped Balthazar would soon grow bored of frustrating him and leave him alone. He had absolutely zero interest in fucking any of his bandmates. (Well, any of his other bandmates. That thing with Gabriel had been a drunken mistake for both of them. He was actually surprised that things had stayed cool with them after that. He had a feeling that things wouldn't turn out so well if he fucked Balthazar, though.)

He snapped back to reality as his bandmates started moving around. Castiel and Dean stood up and Dean planted a soft kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. Gabriel practically jumped off the sofa and tugged Sam to his feet before hopping on his back. Sam laughed and managed to shrug him off fairly easily. Balthazar followed Michael's old habit and stripped off his V-neck in one fluid motion, exposing a lot more of his clear, pale skin than should be legally allowed. It was all Lu could do to not drool. He was just as slim as Michael had been, but despite the five or six tattoos along his arms and back, he looked less rough than their old singer and more elegant. He carried himself like a prince.

Raphael took one last drag on his cigarette before ashing out and following Castiel, Gabriel, and Balthazar to the stage to the sound of the crowd starting to roar. Lu swallowed hard, pointedly ignored the analytical look Crowley was _finally_ giving him (really, it was about fucking time he noticed—it wasn't like he'd been subtle), and made his way to the stage.

Under the harsh lights, Balthazar looked even paler than he did backstage, but he was practically glowing. As Lu, Raphael, Castiel, and Gabriel took their places, Balthazar grabbed the microphone and started bantering like he'd been performing his whole life. "Evening, mates! Thanks for comin' out tonight! I'm Bizarre, the new singer, and it is an honor to be here this evening!" He quickly glanced at his new bandmates and, seeing that they were ready, yelled, "One, two, three, four!"

As they ripped into the first song (it was "Good to Be Gone" tonight), Balthazar began singing. Judging by the initial reaction, they'd definitely picked the right singer—he had an immediate connection with them and had an insane amount of energy. Lu could appreciate it even though it was frustrating to see him bound from one side of the stage to the other, shaking his ass and, in general, acting like a huge flirt. He could barely keep his eyes off him. It was pretty much the exact opposite problem he'd had with Michael, apart from the fact that Michael had been a raging douchebag and Lu didn't know Balthazar well enough to decide if he was a douchebag, too.

As the show wore on, Balthazar became aware of Lu's attention and shot him amused smirks every so often. Lu tore his gaze from him after the third smug look, praying his bandmates (and the audience) hadn't picked up on it. He was half pissed-off at himself and half pissed-off at Balthazar. He couldn't believe how hard it was to _not_ look at him—he somehow managed to stare determinedly into the crowd, but he kept wanting to look back, especially when Balthazar slunk over to his edge of the stage. And that was why he was pissed at Balthazar—the blonde was practically flirting with him in front of everyone. He didn't know if it was out of genuine interest or just to press his buttons, but he was doing a very good job of annoying him. He couldn't figure out why Balthazar would want to irritate him—he'd been there for the fistfight he and Michael had had, so he must have known he was capable of physical violence when provoked.

Finally, mercifully, their half-hour set ended. The last chord had barely faded away before Lu was backstage again, guitar in hand, heading out to Raphael's truck. He didn't give a flying fuck if the drummer wouldn't be ready to go for an hour or so. He just had to be away from Balthazar. Unfortunately, the universe seemed to be against this plan because Crowley intercepted him—as well as the rest of the band—and gathered them back up. "Boys, I have some good news and some bad news. I spoke to Bobby—" here, he was referring to Bobby Singer, his boyfriend of twenty-two years and a producer at the label they were hoping to get signed with "—and he said they're sending out someone from Leviathan Records to take a look at you."

There was a stunned silence for a moment. Lu pulled himself together enough to ask, "Wait, when?" They'd been trying to get a record deal for ages, and he knew they'd probably only get one chance with Leviathan. Hopefully it was far enough in the future to allow them sufficient time to practice. They had to be on top when the rep came to watch them. And now they were really even more screwed than if Michael was still with them, because even though Balthazar fit with them fairly well, they weren't used to _him_ yet. They needed to find their groove with him.

Crowley looked uncomfortable. "That's the bad news. They won't tell me until the night of the show. Even Bobby doesn't know when it'll be—and believe me, I tried to find out." His expression became more upbeat. "However, I have the utmost confidence in you. For your first show together, you did remarkably well. That being said, did any of you see any issues? I would certainly hate to see you have to break in _another_ new singer. Or any other bandmate, for that matter."

This was Lu's chance. He could say something and get Balthazar out of the band. He could make any excuse he wanted. But at the same time, he couldn't. Balthazar had the talent, he had the energy, he had the style. He was pretty much exactly what the band needed from their frontman. Lu couldn't deprive his band of that just because his hormones went out of control around him. He could—he _would_ —keep it in his pants for the sake of his band. He had more self-control than to let his baser instincts get the better of him. They needed this to go right, and Balthazar was the best thing for them. He shook his head along with his bandmates. Crowley appeared satisfied.

"Good. Well, then, I'll let you boys get back to whatever it is you were about to do. One last suggestion, though. Since we don't know when the Leviathan rep will be showing up to see you, I recommend you rehearse as much as possible. If you're not working, you're rehearsing. Even if you don't have everyone, it's still a good idea. There's always something you can improve on."

 _Fucking slave driver!_ Lu yelled in his head, but he understood the necessity of what Crowley was saying. They had to be on point for the rep. Still, he had a lot on his plate right now. This couldn't have come at a worse time. After all, he still hadn't found a new apartment yet. "Hey, I need to find a new place to live. I can't crash on Ray's couch forever, you know."

Crowley furrowed his brow in confusion. "I thought you were living with Eve. What happened with that?"

 _Oh. Oops._ He'd forgotten to mention that to pretty much everyone but Raphael. "She dumped me last week. The night Mikey quit, actually. Oh, funny story about that—apparently, she was fucking him behind my back." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "No big deal."

Gabriel let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl! And then she kicked _you_ out? What a bitch!"

"Yeah," Raphael said, and Lu knew immediately where this conversation was heading. "I'm pretty sure it's because she was squicked-out with the idea of him sleeping where she fucked Mikey."

Gabriel and Balthazar both snorted with laughter. Lu rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples. He was half-tempted to slug Raphael in the face. He'd already heard that comment three times in the past week, and it was getting old. But he wouldn't swing at him because Raphael was pretty much his best friend. He was also sleeping on the guy's sofa. Instead, he settled for turning right back around and heading to the sofa, where a cooler of beer was waiting for them.

Fishing out a can of beer, he realized that Dean and Sam were talking with a red-haired girl that Lu vaguely recognized. He couldn't place her, but his silent question was answered when Raphael, who had followed him, greeted her. "Hey! Anna Solomon, right? From the auditions last week?"

Anna nodded, smiling. "Yeah, that's me. Ray Burbank, right?"

Raphael grinned. "Yep. What are you doing back here? I hope you got to see the show from the front. I'm told it looks better from up there."

Lu rolled his eyes. He felt awkward just watching Raphael attempting to flirt. The drummer literally lacked the ability to be smooth or cool. He cracked open his beer, drained it in three huge gulps, and said, "Hey. Give me your keys. I'm gonna go put my bass and my amp in your truck."

Raphael wasn't even paying attention as he handed over his keys. Lu tossed the empty can in the trash, zipped his bass into its case, picked up his amplifier (a small Ibanez, not one of the monsters onstage. Those belonged to the venue), and headed toward the truck.


	5. Story of My Life

Lu had just finished strapping in his bass in the cab of Raphael's truck when he sensed rather than heard someone approaching from behind him. A split second before he turned around, he heard that seductively familiar voice hiss in his ear, "Hello, Lucifer."

He could feel the heat radiating from Balthazar's body and part of him just wanted to lean back into him. He managed to control that desire and turned to face him. "Don't call me 'Lucifer.' It's just 'Lu.'"

"Of course," Balthazar murmured. "My apologies." He casually put his hand against the side of the truck, a few inches away from the strawberry blonde, leaning in closer to Lu in the process. Lu felt his heart speed up a bit but, other than that, gave no indication that he noticed. He had to be impressed with Balthazar's technique, though. He was shorter than Lu by a good two inches but still managed to seem taller. Maybe it was because he was leaning as far back against the truck as possible with his hands behind his back, not quite trusting himself _not_ to run his fingers through Balthazar's hair. Or punch him in the face. Both options seemed appealing.

Balthazar continued, "So your girlfriend… Eve, was it? She broke up with you?"

Lu shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Yeah. It's not a big deal, though. She was a bitch, anyway." Not that it didn't sting like a motherfucker, the fact that she'd been screwing Michael, but he'd get over that pretty easily. He made to sidle away from the other blonde, but Balthazar caught his arm.

He wasn't even grabbing him, just resting his hand against his forearm, but it was enough to freeze the bassist. "Well, then. I reckon it was all for the best in that case, yeah?" His bright blue eyes seemed to be boring holes right through him. He was so close that he could see the twin holes punched through Balthazar's lower lip and he wondered briefly why he didn't have his piercings in. For a second, Lu's breathing caught in his chest, but he maintained eye contact, refusing to let the other man fluster him.

"Yeah. Yeah, it—" Lu quickly cleared his throat. _Fuck!_ He was born and raised in Mississippi for the first seven years of his life until his mother took him and moved to California. He spent the next three years fighting to lose his Southern accent and he did a good job of getting rid of it, but it still came back out when he was drunk or horny. The twang had made an appearance and he definitely wasn't drunk. "Yeah, it was," he said, very carefully pronouncing each word to make absolutely sure he didn't slip into his accent again. Hell, Balthazar probably hadn't even noticed it, but _he_ did.

Pretending he didn't notice the way his heart started racing the moment the singer touched him, Lu hit the lock button on Raphael's key ring and again started to head back inside. He'd rather be hovering next to Raphael, embarrassed at his lame flirting, than out here tempting himself like this. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand out here, inches away from Balthazar and those piercing eyes and those lips and—

He realized a moment too late that he hadn't moved and was now actually staring because Balthazar's lips turned up in a smirk. The slightly-shorter blonde slid his hand from Lu's forearm all the way up to the back of his neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. For a second, their eyes locked and Lu felt his resistance crumbling. Then those deliciously soft-looking lips of his were pressed against the bassist's, and he finally dragged his fingers through the singer's hair. That's all it was, just a gentle meeting of lips that was easily the sweetest first kiss of Lu's life. Unconsciously, he moaned softly and twisted his fingers, pulling Balthazar's hair, and then suddenly the kiss deepened. The singer's teeth scraped against Lu's lips and the taller man felt himself pressing closer to him, spreading his lips.

Balthazar's hand left the back of his neck to lean against the truck as his tongue licked across Lu's lower lip. The shorter man easily pushed his leg between Lu's and he couldn't help rutting against him like a horny teenager. _Oh, my God._ Lu tightened his grip on Balthazar's hair, his thoughts racing so fast that his brain was about to short-circuit. He moaned again, louder now, slowly realizing that Balthazar's hands weren't on him anymore. _Touch me, dammit!_ This was crazy. They'd only been kissing for a minute or two but already he was ready to unlock Raphael's truck and drag Balthazar into the backseat. He wanted to feel Balthazar's hands all over him and their bare skin pressed together and his tongue against his.

But just as abruptly as it started, Balthazar pulled away, easily disentangling himself from Lu. Without a backwards glance, the singer headed right back inside, leaving Lu slumped against the truck. The strawberry blonde watched him leave, wanting— _needing_ —to say something, to call him back, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't even find the words. It wasn't until the door slammed behind him that Lu finally blinked and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Fuck," he muttered, tugging on his hair for a moment. What the Hell was wrong with him? It wasn't even ten minutes ago that he told himself he was going to keep it in his pants for the sake of his band. Then what did he do? He went ahead and made out with his singer. That was kind of the opposite of what he vowed to do.

_It wasn't my fault, though!_ After all, he _had_ been trying to avoid that sort of situation. Balthazar had approached _him_ , flirted with him, instigated the kiss. _He started it!_ So what if he'd been the one moaning like a whore, grabbing at him like his life depended on it? None of that would have happened if the blonde had just left him the fuck alone.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he mustered up all his courage and willpower. Damned if that hadn't been one of the best kisses of his life, but he wasn't going to even contemplate that. He jimmied the handle of Raphael's truck one last time to be absolutely sure he'd locked it. Then he slid a casual look into place and headed back inside.

* * *

"Hey, Lu! Are you okay?" Raphael asked the moment he caught sight of him.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You look a little flushed, that's all."

"Oh." He smiled nervously, feeling extremely off his game. "Yeah, it's just hot out there, that's all."

"Good. We were about to leave and head out to Balthazar's place, so—"

"Wait, what?" he asked, more sharply than he intended.

"Well, he just had this idea that it might be a good way for us to get to know each other, you know? Bonding experience."

_Bonding? What fresh Hell is this?_

"Like a band of brothers!" Gabriel joked, appearing out of nowhere and leaping onto Lu's back.

_Brothers who apparently fuck each other if they're drunk enough._ "If you're my brothers, I _have_ to be adopted." He shoved Gabriel off and the shorter man just laughed.

Raphael went on. "Anyway, he just suggested this thing, so we're all heading out. You put your shit in my truck, right?"

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"Dude, I thought you'd be on board with it. I mean, we're all trying to get to know him so we don't potentially have to hit the studio with a complete stranger. It's a good idea, you have to admit."

It _was_ a good idea. That didn't mean Lu had to like it. "Was it _his_ idea?"

"Yeah, but so? What's the problem?"

Lu stared at the ceiling for a few moments, brain spinning. _Come on, think of something! Get out of it!_ He finally settled on, "I have work tomorrow."

"I know. At three. I'll be sure you make it to work on time, buddy. We're not gonna cut it close or anything."

_Fuck!_ Raphael knew his schedule way too well. "I just—"

"Hey," Castiel said, approaching with his guitar slung over his back. "Are we ready to leave? Balthazar says he's ready to go."

_Well, since they'll be around too, maybe he'll behave._ As one, they all looked toward where the blonde was standing, lighting a cigarette. He looked at them and called over, "You lot set? It's getting late." He caught Lu's eye and smirked. "I'll be in the car park when you're ready." _Alright, maybe not._ Still smirking, Balthazar exited smoothly.

"Hey, let's go," Raphael said, nudging Lu. "I think Cas and Gabe are hanging back to say goodnight to Dean and Sam. And you know how long _that_ can take," he added in an undertone with a quick glance back at the guitarists. Fortunately, neither of them were paying attention—both were suddenly more interested in their respective boyfriends than in anything Raphael had to say.

Fortunately, Castiel and Gabriel only took a few minutes to say goodbye to the Sinchesters. Still, Lu had hopped into Raphael's truck already and closed his eyes, feigning (well, not really feigning) exhaustion to avoid even looking at Balthazar. When Raphael finally slid into the driver's seat, Lu opened one eye. "So he's leading and we're following, right?"

"Right," Raphael said. He made short work of checking his mirrors and started up the truck. He gave Lu a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, man. I got you covered."

"Huh?" Had Raphael somehow figured out what was going on?

"I'll get you to work on time. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Oh. Yeah, thanks." He didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed but supposed that it was probably a good thing that his bandmates were oblivious. That fact would surely make it an interesting evening, though.

* * *

It did end up being almost pleasant, the five of them on the floor of Balthazar's living room, passing around a bottle of Svedka and swapping stories. Raphael went first, telling a story that Lu already knew from back in high school when they nearly got caught smoking weed in the bathroom during fourth hour. That led to a similar story of Gabriel's, except he actually _did_ get caught. He didn't get in trouble, though—he was so high that he actually offered the teacher a hit and the teacher accepted, agreeing to keep the incident a secret. Castiel recounted a tale none of them had heard before from back in his three-year stint in the Army. Apparently, he and a few of his buddies had gotten so drunk that they hijacked the commanding officer's golf cart and went joyriding around the base. Somehow, they never got caught.

"Dude, why don't you ever tell us shit like this?" Gabriel asked, nearly rolling with laughter. "You always have the best fucking stories!"

Castiel just chuckled and shrugged. He didn't talk a lot about his Army days, and Lu had a feeling it was why he was so quiet.

When the bottle got to Lu, he had to think long and hard about what story he wanted to tell. Finally, he settled on the story of his first tattoo. He'd found it in a book in his junior year of high school. It was a design called a Devil's Trap. He liked the sound of it and the description before he even saw the design, and once he saw _that_ , he knew he wanted it. He had to wait another year to get it, until he turned eighteen, and the day after he did, he went right to the tattoo studio and got the Devil's Trap tattooed over his heart. "I mean, my name _is_ Lucifer, after all. Besides, I like to think it keeps the Devil inside me. Keeps him from getting out."

Balthazar looked fairly impressed. "Cheers," he joked, tipping the bottle of vodka back and taking a long swig. Lu tried not to stare at Balthazar's throat as he swallowed. He wondered why he was the only one of his bandmates affected by this guy. That couldn't be right. Then again, Castiel and Gabriel were both spoken for and he was pretty sure Raphael didn't have any latent homosexual tendencies, so maybe it _was_ just him. Still, it wasn't fair.

The singer decided to regale them with the story of one of his hookups, a girl back in England named Bela Talbot. "Right slag, that one," he explained. He went on to tell them about how they met in a club and made it back to her place. They'd just finished when the front door opened and Bela's boyfriend walked, making a racket and, in general, waking him up. Balthazar apparently only had just enough time to gather up his clothes and shimmy out the window before the boyfriend caught him—he didn't even have time to put his pants on. Instead, he just went tearing down the street completely naked and prayed no cops happened to be rolling by.

No matter how Lu felt about Balthazar, it was really hard _not_ to laugh at that mental image, and he and his bandmates were all dissolved into laughter by the story's end. He felt himself relaxing as the bottle made its way to him again and he took another drink. Still giggling, he said, "Hang on—I gotta piss. I'll be right back." That Southern accent was starting to color his words again, but since it was from alcohol, he cared a lot less than he did earlier. Instead he stumbled all the way down the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

He came out a few minutes later, starting to head back to the living room, but something caught his eye. There was a door open now that he was absolutely sure hadn't been ajar when he'd gone into the bathroom. There was even light coming from the room. His curiosity piqued, he peered inside.

It was obviously Balthazar's bedroom. First of all, there was a bed in it. Second of all, Balthazar was standing in the middle of the room. His back was to the door and he was sweeping his shirt over his head. Lu froze, unable to tear his eyes away. _Holy fuck._ His back—smooth and slim with that tantalizing line down his spine—was covered with tattoos. He was too drunk to tell what they depicted, but he just couldn't stop staring. Balthazar tugged a wifebeater shirt over his frame and Lu unconsciously licked his lips.

As if that somehow attracted his attention, Balthazar suddenly turned and locked eyes with him. _Oh, shit!_ He looked pissed off. Crossing the room in three quick strides, he grabbed Lu by the collar and pulled him into the room. He easily shoved Lu against the wall and captured his mouth.

It was—there was no other word for it—an assault. Teeth, tongue, lips crashed together in a battle for dominance that Lu was far too drunk to win. He heard himself whining softly, pulling on Balthazar's hair and rutting against him as he did so. _Oh, Jesus!_ Balthazar had him completely flush against the wall, pinned in place with his own body, but he was at least touching him now. It was only fanning the flames, but Balthazar's hands were running up and down his sides, dragging up his shirt a bit, and he could feel the smallest bit of the singer's stomach against his. He moaned once, sliding a hand into Balthazar's shirt, and the shorter blonde leaned back just enough to breathe, "You want me to shag you right here? Just like this, with the rest of them right out there? You want that?"

"Yeah," Lu panted, nodding furiously. "Yeah, I want you to fuck me."

Balthazar gave him a half-smirk. "I would, love, but I don't quite trust you to keep your voice down. Not with the way you're going on, anyway." He brushed his lips against Lu's again and then finally released him. "And I rather like you guys. You're a good group of blokes." He winked at Lu, pulled the bottom hem of his shirt down, and headed out the door.

_Shit._ So much for behaving himself. _I have to keep trying._ Even drunk, he knew he was cruising for disaster. _Next time. Next time, I'm not giving in. I won't let myself give in._ Taking a few more calming breaths, he went back out and rejoined his bandmates.


	6. Gotta Know the Rules

Lu sat in Raphael's truck at the gas station while his friend hurried inside to pick up a pack of cigarettes. The strawberry blonde was hunched over his notebook, rubbing his forehead and finishing up the lyrics he'd started writing the week before. He actually rather liked this song. The problem was, it wasn't the band's style. It probably wouldn't see the light of day once he finished it, but he'd complete it anyway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raphael approaching. He quickly closed up his notebook and stashed it in his backpack just as the other man slid into the driver's seat. Raphael quirked his eyebrow at Lu's apparent secretiveness but knew better than to comment. He understood that Lu was weird about his songs. Until he was sure they were absolutely right, it was best not to even mention it.

"Here," he said, handing Lu a Dr Pepper. "Maybe some caffeine will help your head."

"Thanks." Lu cracked it open and the first swig of free soda never tasted so sweet. Even though Gabriel was the one with the sweet tooth, Lu had a minor soda addiction. His withdrawal headache had kicked in early this morning, but he hadn't said anything. Raphael just knew.

"So what time are you off work today?" he asked Lu, pulling out into traffic.

"Seven, unless it's slow. I'll call you if I need an early pickup. Either way, I have a change of clothes." Lu toed at his backpack containing the jeans and shirt he planned on wearing at the show tonight. He definitely wasn't about to rock it out in his Oak Ridge Market polo shirt.

Raphael nodded. "Sounds good. Hopefully you _do_ get let out early." Even though they didn't go onstage until nine, it was always better to be ready to go earlier. Usually Lu's job was pretty good about making sure he had a few hours in between work and shows, but today had been an exception.

The two of them rode the rest of the way in silence, passing a cigarette back and forth. As soon as Raphael pulled up in front of the grocery story, Lu swung his backpack over his shoulder and unbuckled. "See you later," he said and hopped out of the truck. He crossed in front of the idling pickup and headed into the store, resigning himself to eight hours of boredom and general bullshit.

He punched in his code on the digital clock next to the main office and started toward the back when the office window slid open behind him. "Hey! Lu! C'mere for a second!"

Lu doubled back. "Hey, Ash. What's going on?"

The man with the epic dirty-blond mullet didn't look too happy. "Zachariah was looking for you. I think he's doing stock in aisle eight. Go find out what he wants."

"Fuck. I'm not even late!" Lu sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright, thanks." He headed in the opposite direction, toward aisle eight, bracing himself fir the inevitable shit-storm. If Zachariah Dillard wanted to see you, it was only bad. Sure, Lu had shown up hung over on more than one occasion, but he generally wasn't late for work and he kept his offensive tattoos covered. Wondering what the Hell he'd done wrong now, he finally swung into aisle eight and located his boss at the far end.

"Zach, you wanted to see me?" he called, approaching the perpetually angry man in the business suit.

Zachariah looked right up at him and set down the package of Oreos in his hand. "Ah, Pellegrino. Yes, I did want to talk to you." He paused, looking pensive for a moment. "Well, I'm not really sure how to say this, but we're letting you go."

Lu blinked. It took a solid three seconds for it to sink in. "I'm… I'm being fired?"

Zachariah smiled in that way he had, the way that only breaking bad news could make him smile. It was infuriating even though Zachariah seemed to think it was reassuring. "You're not being fired, Pellegrino. This has nothing to do with you personally. We're just being forced to make some cuts and your name was on the short list. That's all."

Lu couldn't stop the fury from seeping into his voice. "I've been working here for two years. That other douche-blower in produce, you know, _Andy_ , has only been here for three months. How the f…" He just barely restrained himself from cussing out Zachariah. It nearly slipped out. "How did _I_ end up on the short list?" It wasn't that he didn't like Andy, because he did kind of like the guy. He wasn't irritating or anything. It was that he supposedly had seniority over half the store, and he still got the ax.

Zachariah, for his part, looked remarkably cool. He seemed not to notice Lu almost dropping an F-bomb, or at least like he expected it. "You really just answered your own question, Pellegrino. You've been working here for awhile. You expect certain advantages—flexible scheduling, overtime, that kind of thing. Andy, though—Hell, he's just trying to keep his job. I say, 'Jump' and he says, 'How high?' You don't do that anymore." He thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I don't think you ever did."

"Yeah, because I have my dignity." Actually, that was a straight-up lie, but Zachariah knew nothing about Lu's struggles with Balthazar. He was getting a little better at playing it cool around him, keeping him distant, but he knew it wouldn't be much longer before Balthazar upped the stakes again. Lu growled in frustration and turned on his heel, preparing to make his dramatic exit, when Zachariah called from behind him, "We'll send your last paycheck right to your apartment."

 _Fuck._ He turned back around. "Eve dumped me and she still has the apartment. I'm coming to pick it up myself," he snapped. Zachariah looked incredibly annoyed with that information, but Lu would be damned if he let that bitch pick up his last check. Nope, fuck that. He didn't care if Zachariah didn't want to see him in the store ever again—he didn't trust Eve with his money.

Lu stormed back to the front of the store as Ash slid the glass window open again. "Lu, what happened? You look pissed."

"Really? I look _pissed_? I wonder why," Lu said sarcastically. He tried to remind himself that his anger was currently misplaced, that Ash had nothing to do with this decision, but he couldn't help lashing out a bit. He punched in his employee code again, signing himself out, and dropped his backpack on the floor. "Here," he said bitterly, tossing his burgundy work shirt at Ash. "I just got fired. No, not fired," he corrected himself suddenly, "'let go.'"

"What the Hell? Really?" Ash seemed stunned. "Why would he—?"

"Basically because I expect too many privileges. Seniority is my downfall, apparently." Lu swung his backpack over his shoulders again and tried not to crack his knuckles. "I'll take my paycheck and I'll see you in a week." As soon as Ash handed him the envelope containing his second-to-last paycheck, he tore it open and headed for the registers.

He went to register one because it was the only one free and signed the back of his check. He handed it to the cashier, a short girl named Eva who, despite having an eerily similar name to his ex-girlfriend, was actually nothing like her. Actually, Lu rather liked Eva. She was the only other person in the store who laughed at his inappropriate and frankly rude jokes, she listened to the same kind of music he played, and she dyed her golden-blond hair black. "Want me to smash out his headlights on break?" she asked him softly, peering at her screen.

Lu snorted with laughter. "No, but if you have a crowbar under your register, I'll bust his windshield." He sighed with anger and hopped up onto the conveyor belt. "This is not what was supposed to happen. I was not supposed to give two years of my life to this place just to get traded in for a newer, douchier model, you know?" He kicked at the metal grate beneath the belt.

"Are you telling me you really wanted to work here for the rest of your life? Because that's a sure way to end up just like Zach." She looked up at him, sliding his check under the till in her register, and pulled out a stack of twenties.

Lu sighed. "No, but I was supposed to quit on my own terms. Like right before we went on our huge world tour, you know?"

She shrugged and started counting out his cash. "Hey, it just happened a little earlier than you expected. Now you have more infuriating dicks to write about." She handed him the $354 and change he was owed and slammed her register shut.

Lu folded up his money and shoved it into his back pocket. "Hey, are you coming to the show tonight?"

She shook her head, looking pained. "Meeting my girlfriend's parents tonight, or else I would. I'll catch you at the next one, though. I'm sure you'll do great."

"Yeah, thanks." He felt a bit calmer now that he had his cash on him. He picked his backpack up again and playfully ruffled her hair. She was only three years younger than him, but she had the look of a fourteen-year-old boy. "Don't let this place eat you alive, kid."

"Yeah, you too," he heard her call after him. The moment he was through the sliding doors again, though, his inner calm broke. _Fuck!_ Now he had to call Raphael and have him pick his ass up again. This shit, getting the rug yanked from under him at every turn, was getting old. He pulled out his phone, muttering angrily to himself. "New fucking singer, kicked out of my own damn apartment, fucking _fired_ …" _Well, at least it can't get much worse._

"Lu?" Raphael's voice sounded strained and confused.

"Yeah, it's me, and no, this is not a butt-dial. I need you to come get me."

There was a few seconds of silence. "What happened?"

"I got fired, okay? I came in and my boss basically told me to go home. So now I'm just standing here in the parking lot like an idiot. Can you come get me or not?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in about ten minutes." Raphael sighed and the speaker crackled in Lu's ear. "Your day's about to get worse, though."

 _Spoke too soon._ He must have jinxed himself by thinking today couldn't get much worse. "Why? What now?"

"I… I'll tell you when I get there, okay?"

Lu rolled his eyes. "Alright, but hurry up. I'm seriously thinking about slashing Zach's fucking tired right now."

"I'll be there as fast as I can."

After they hung up, Lu paced in front of the store, fuming and hoping Zachariah wasn't about to call the cops on him for loitering. All he wanted was to be away from this black hole of a grocery store. Oak Ridge Market had the ability to make even the most patient person become either a stressed-out prick or a stoner by necessity. He couldn't count the times he'd seen the cashiers and baggers come in high as a kite. He at least had it lucky—produce department dealt with the delivery trucks most of the time and the guys driving them weren't generally assholes, at least not to the minimum-wage fucks. Cashiers, baggers, and people in the deli department were seriously screwed, and the ones behind the deli counter didn't even have the luxury of being able to show up high unless they wanted to risk losing a finger on the slicer.

But now he didn't even _have_ a fucking job, which wasn't going to help him when he tried to find a new place to live. He was just getting fucked left and right this month, and not in a good way.

Raphael finally pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, and Lu tossed his backpack onto the floor before climbing in. "Alright," he said, slamming the door shut. "Out with it. What's up now? Show get canceled? Someone break an arm? Someone in jail?"

Raphael put the truck in gear. "My parents want you out."

Lu blinked. "Like… _out_ , out? I'm…" He groaned. "Fucking damn it!" He knew it wasn't really Ray's fault and he couldn't blame the Burbanks for wanting him out of their house, but this was the crowning moment on a day that wasn't even half over. "Where the fuck am I supposed to live?"

"You could suck it up and ask Gabe or Cas. I know you don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and hear them going at it with their respective Sinchester, but it looks to me like you're pretty much out of options. You could ask Bizarre, too."

Lu groaned again. Given the choice between living at Balthazar's place or waking up to hear Gabriel's breathless moaning, he'd pick Gabriel any day. That wasn't going to make it any easier, though.

"I can still drive your around and everything, alright? I mean, as long as I'm not working. Just… My parents just want you out, that's all. Sorry," he added.

Lu sighed in frustration. "I know it's not your fucking fault, okay? Just… _fuck_. This has been the shittiest month of my life, okay? And now, not having a job is going to make it _so_ much easier to find a new apartment," he added sarcastically. He leaned back against the seat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright, let's go throw my shit back in your truck." He was getting far too used to moving around.

* * *

When they pulled into the parking lot behind The Garrison nine hours later, Castiel and Dean were already there, leaning up against Dean's '67 Impala. That meant Gabriel and Sam were around somewhere, too—most likely inside. With a quick survey of the rest of the parking lot, Lu picked out the bright-red '72 Mustang that belonged to Balthazar right underneath one of the lights and noted with a small amount of dissatisfaction that they were clearly the last ones to arrive. Lu slammed the door behind him and he and Raphael went around to the back—Raphael to unlock the truck bed and Lu to get his bass. As soon as Raphael had it open, he went to talk to Dean and Castiel. They were going to need all the help they could get with bringing Raphael's drum kit inside.

"Going on a trip?" said a smooth, snarky, and definitely English voice behind Lu. The strawberry blonde nearly jumped out of his skin before looking from Balthazar to the back of Raphael's truck. All of his worldly possessions were back in Ray's truck bed, but so what? There was no need to be snotty about it.

"Fuck you," he spat, brushing past him and gripping the neck of his bass a little tighter than necessary. It was through the gig case, though, so it probably wouldn't cause damage.

"You would!" Balthazar called after him. Lu ignored him even though he was sure Raphael, Castiel, and Dean had heard the taunt. He was in no mood to deal with Balthazar's bullshit right now. All he wanted to do was find a new place to live and hopefully a new job.

As soon as he burst in through the back door, he heard Crowley say, "Well, looks like the last two angels have arrived. About bloody time, too."

Lu moved further into the room and set his bass down on the sofa. The door opened again but all his attention was right on his manager. "You're gonna have to forgive me—packing up my entire life for the second time in two weeks is a lengthy process," he spat.

"What happened now?" Crowley asked. His tone hinted at disinterest, but his eyes fixed sharply on him.

"Well, first of all, I got fucking fired today. Then Ray tells me his parents want me out of their house, so I need to find a new job _and_ a new place to live. So in less than a month, my whole life's basically gone to shit. Can you sense my frustration, even a little?"

Crowley was far too used to Lu's moods to be bothered. That was one thing Lu and Michael had in common, probably the main reason they fought so much. They were both Class-A divas, but while Michael was just an all-around asshole, at least Lu could be nice when he wasn't pissed off. Today just hadn't been his day. Crowley could forgive him for being hacked off.

"You need a place to live?" Balthazar asked from behind Lu. No, today was definitely not Lu's day.

"Yes, I do," he said icily, turning to face the other blonde. He was just happy he was taller than Balthazar. It was much easier to glare down at someone than glare up.

"I've got a free room at my place. You're more than welcome to it," Balthazar said cheerfully. He was actually flashing him an innocent smile.

 _Yeah, I think we_ both _know how that's going to play out._ As if it wasn't hard enough to not think about him when there were miles between them. Now he'd have to deal with that with Balthazar in the next fucking room.

"Well, that works out quite well," Crowley said. "Cookie for you."

"Fine," Lu said, gritting his teeth. _Fuck my life.  
_


	7. I Want What I Want

Word about the new Blue Archangel singer must have spread. More specifically, a good word, because there were about twice as many people as usual crammed into The Garrison and the dull roar escalated into full-throated shouting as Blue Archangel took the stage. The cacophony only intensified as the night wore on and it became increasingly clear that, no matter what offense Lu may have taken to Balthazar's presence, he was already quite popular with their small but insane fan base. It was actually rather intimidating to realize that one relatively minor change could have such an extraordinary effect on those who called themselves their fans. Still, Lu felt his mood lightening as they performed, beginning to understand that these people appreciated them, appreciated _him_. Oak Ridge definitely wasn't where he belonged, and now that he didn't have to go back, he felt himself smiling.

Forty-five minutes later, they took their bows and went backstage. It was then that Lu remembered that he'd accepted Balthazar's offer of a place to live. Now he actually had to _deal_ with that, and the actual moving in. Balthazar was sure to make the process a living Hell and Lu started rolling around ways to shorten the ordeal as much as possible. He'd just decided to tell Balthazar that he was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep—he prayed both bedroom doors locked—when he realized that Gabriel wasn't bounding around like he normally was after a show. In fact, all four of his bandmates seemed rooted to the spot and staring in the same direction.

 _Oh, shit._ Crowley was standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked decidedly neutral, as if the person standing directly to his right wasn't actually there, wasn't between him and Bobby Singer. Bobby, for his part, didn't appear so much neutral as angry, although he managed to keep a pretty tight lid on it. He cleared his throat and, indicating the man next to him, said, "Well, boys, this is Richard Roman. He's from Leviathan Records," he added after a moment.

Roman wore a plain black suit and an evil smile. On most days, this wouldn't bother Lu at all, but he felt distinctly discomfited by that smirk right now. It wasn't like Crowley's self-righteous but otherwise benign grin. There was something genuinely monstrous about that smile. He was forcibly reminded of Patrick Bateman in _American Psycho_. "Call me Dick," Roman said, holding out his hand to the closest band member, who happened to be Ray.

"Raphael. Raphael Burbank. I go by Ray." He shook Roman's hand and Lu didn't miss the momentary uneasiness that flitted across his features. One by one, they all shook Roman's hand and introduced themselves, trying not to let their discomfort show. They all seemed to sense that something was off with this guy.

"Gabriel Speight. Call me Gabe."

"Castiel Collins." Lu knew what he was thinking— _Only my friends can call me Cas._

"Balthazar Roché."

"Lu Pellegrino."

Roman kept grinning at them, sending another wave of unsettlement through the group. "Guys, I have to say, I came here with… well, not necessarily _low_ expectations, but… let's just say the bar wasn't very high. But watching you guys perform and seeing how much your audience clearly loves you? Man, I'm blown away. You guys definitely deliver." He'd taken two steps closer to the band, leaving Bobby and Crowley out of his peripherals. Bobby crossed his arms and exchanged a brief, slightly concerned glance with Crowley. "So I'm here to offer you guys a three-album contract. I'll give you some time to talk it over with each other and Mr. Crowley here, but…" He simply grinned at them for a moment. "Well, I'll have my people get the contract drawn up. You gentlemen have a nice night now." He turned back to Bobby and Crowley. "Mr. Singer, Mr. Crowley. I'll be in touch." With a curt nod toward Bobby, he brushed past them and disappeared further backstage.

For a few moments, it was quiet. Suddenly, Balthazar said, "Arrogant little cock, isn't he?"

Crowley gave a brief snort of laughter. "Indeed. I see now why you don't like him, Bobby." He uncrossed his arms and buried his hands in his pockets. "Well, it looks like we need to talk. You've been trying to get signed with Leviathan for awhile now, so this is obviously the news we've all been waiting for. A three-album contract… this is pretty much it for you, isn't it?" He peered around at each of them for a moment. "Thoughts? Lu?"

Lu knew why Crowley had appointed him the unofficial spokesperson. He was the reason they were there in the first place. He knew Ray from high school, Gabe and Castiel from college. He'd known Michael from Oak Ridge, before Mikey got fired for "attitude problems." The songs they performed were his. The name had been his idea. He'd been the driving force behind the band from day one, and even though they were all just as invested as he was by now, it all came back to him.

Naturally, Lu's brain chose that second to stop functioning. He swallowed hard, struggling to gather his thoughts. It had been a strange day, that was sure. What with his firing, his surprise relocation, and then _this_ , he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. "Well," he started carefully, "you're right—we've been trying to make this happen for awhile now. Assuming they cut us a good deal, I think the choice is pretty obvious, right? I mean… Can anyone think of a good reason _not_ to take a deal?"

The other four just shook their heads. Lu expected Gabriel to make some smartass comment, but he remained silent. Castiel was the first one to speak up. "I believe that it's a good decision. We can tell them we're interested but not make any firm commitment. I personally would like to be able to look over the contract before we agree to anything. Based on those parameters, we can make a more informed choice." He glanced at Lu, as if seeking his approval. "However, based on what we currently know, there's no way to make such a definite decision. And obviously, until we sign anything, we're not bound to them."

Sometimes, Lu forgot how eloquent Castiel was. It wasn't often that he voiced his opinions, but when he did, they paid attention. Gabriel snorted with laughter. "Pretty much what I was gonna say. Wouldn't have sounded nearly as good coming out of me, though."

"Anything else?" Bobby asked. When no one else said anything, he nodded. "Okay, then. I'll tell _Dick_ —" here, Gabriel let out a giggle "—that you're interested in seeing a contract. I'm sure you'll be hearing his offer by this time next week. Keep your phones on."

"Well, you boys have had a very exciting night. Go get drunk, but don't do anything stupid. And Lu?" The band had started to drift toward the exit, but Lu turned back to face Crowley. "Take it easy, okay? You'll get another job. You just got offered a contract. There's no reason to get pissed off tonight."

* * *

Three hours later found the bassist sitting against the wall of his new bedroom, staring into a now-half-empty bottle of Wild Turkey. After Ray and Balthazar had helped him drag his possessions into the spare room—the latter brushing his fingers against his skin every chance he got—Lu had claimed to be too exhausted to go out with the rest of the band for drinks. Instead, he retreated into his new bedroom and flopped onto the futon, feigning sleep until he heard Ray and Balthazar leave. He was relieved—he hadn't wanted the other four to feel obligated to have him along. Maybe he would go out with them tomorrow night or next weekend, but right now, he just couldn't do it.

That hadn't stopped him from locating Balthazar's liquor cabinet, grabbing the first bottle he could lay his hands on, and bringing it back to his room. The bottle had one, maybe two shots missing when he started on it. By now, the room was spinning pleasantly and everything faded into the background. He lifted the bottle to his lips again and discovered he couldn't taste the bourbon anymore. He wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not, but he did know he liked the bourbon itself. Bourbon, whiskey, and tequila made him a happy drunk. Vodka made him an angry drunk. Everything else just made him drunk.

In the half-light from a streetlamp outside, something white caught his eye. It looked suspiciously like the shirt he was wearing, until he looked down and realized he wasn't wearing his shirt anymore. _When did_ that _happen?_ He didn't remember taking his shirt off. He shrugged in apathy and took another swig of bourbon. He wiggled his toes and it slowly dawned on him that he'd taken off his shoes and socks as well. _I must be drunker than I thought._ He fumbled for the cap as it occurred to him that he'd probably reached his limit for the night.

Lu chuckled to himself as he slowly climbed to his feet and reached for the bottle again. He'd only been to Balthazar's house one time before this, so he had to strain to remember where the liquor cabinet was. He braced his free hand against the wall to guide himself out of his room and down the hall to the living room. Once he located the cabinet in the corner, he sank into a cross-legged sitting position. He'd just pushed the bottle of Wild Turkey back to where he figured it belonged when he heard the front door open. He twisted around—too fast, because he felt himself get a bit nauseous for a moment—and waved at Balthazar. "Hey!" he slurred happily, managing to stand back up.

"What the fuck?" Balthazar demanded. It was hard to tell from the dim light, but he looked irritated. Lu chose to ignore it and stumbled over to the blonde, shoving the door closed and throwing his arms around the singer. "You gettin' into my booze?"

"Yeah, maybe a little." Lu flashed Balthazar a cheesy grin, too drunk to care that his Southern twang was out in full force. "You got the good stuff. How can I resist?"

Balthazar closed his eyes for a few moments, exhaling slowly. "I thought you were too tired to get drunk tonight," he said, finally opening his eyes again. His sounded less annoyed and more resigned. "What happened to that? Was that a lie?"

Lu shook his head with more emphasis than was probably necessary. "No, no! I'm exhausted, I promise. I just wanted to be drunk by myself for awhile." He pressed his lips to the side of Balthazar's neck. "That being said," he murmured, "I'm _really_ glad you're back."

The slightly-shorter blonde was silent and motionless for a solid five seconds. Abruptly, he reached up and grabbed Lu's wrists, pulling his arms away. "You're trashed," he muttered. "How much did you have?" He gave Lu a small shake, enough of one to cause the taller man to lean back.

Lu shrugged. _What the fuck does it matter?_ "Like… half? Half of a fifth. Somethin' like that."

Balthazar closed his eyes again, as if he was struggling to hold onto his patience. "A fifth of what? Vodka? Scotch?"

"Mm, no. Fifth of Wild Turkey. Like I said, you got the good stuff."

The singer sighed. "Alright, mate. Let's get you to bed." He wrapped his arm around Lu's waist and led him back to his door, allowing the strawberry blonde to fist his shirt to keep himself upright. Balthazar nudged open Lu's door. "I trust you can make it from here?"

"Wait," Lu breathed, turning Balthazar's face to meet his. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed his lips to the singer's, who slid his hand to Lu's hip and gently returned the kiss. For a few leisurely, almost sweet moments, they kissed. All Lu could think of was how soft Balthazar's mouth felt against his, how fucking nice this whole thing felt. "There's no one else here now." He cradled the other side of Balthazar's face with his free hand, running his fingers up into the blonde's hair. "Fuck me? I've been waitin' for you to get back all night." His hand drifted down to the front of Balthazar's jeans and he was able to drag the heel of his hand over the bulge in his pants before the singer grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Don't," he hissed suddenly. As Lu pulled back slightly in surprise, giving him a perplexed look, Balthazar pushed him away, into his room. Lu managed to catch himself before he fell over, but he sank onto the futon anyway, looking affronted.

"I thought that's what you wanted. Wasn't that the point of all this?" he snapped, glaring up at him as Balthazar went to the closet in a corner of the room that Lu hadn't gotten around to exploring yet. "You gettin' into my pants?"

"No, you arse, it _wasn't_. You need a bloody place to live, and that's what this is. I'm not having my bandmate living on the bloody street, understand? And I don't fuck drunk people," he added, turning and throwing a blanket at Lu. "You puke, you clean it up. Don't talk to me 'til you're sober." He shot another glare at the bassist who didn't even have the decency or sobriety to look sheepish. With a muscle in his jaw twitching in anger, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Lu threw the blanket over his head, mentally vowing to slug him in the face the next morning. With that happy thought firmly in his mind, he fell back onto the mattress, turned onto his side, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original outline for this story (by "original," I mean the very first draft from about four months ago), they actually ended up having sex. Several things happened to change my mind about this chapter, not the least of which was that I didn't want Balthazar to be a rapist. *shrug* He's plenty hot enough without having to fuck guys who are almost too drunk to stand.


	8. Alone and Forsaken

There was an extremely unpleasant pounding in Lu's head the next morning. He winced as he slowly regained consciousness, wondering what the Hell had happened. And then, as he looked around the unfamiliar room, he felt a surge of confusion. _Where am I?_ That looked to be his shirt on the floor and there was his bass propped up on its stand and… _Oh._ It came back in a rush. Getting fired, getting kicked out of Raphael's place, Balthazar offering him a place. That part made sense. What _still_ didn't make sense was why his head was killing him. He was pretty sure he'd only had a few shots of Wild Turkey…

He tumbled off the mattress, trying not to groan. A sudden shift in his perception had done _nothing_ for his headache. In fact, it made it worse. He slowly got to his feet and stumbled toward the bedroom door, but slumped against the wall just before he got there. _Damn._ Now he was starting to remember. He'd had a lot more than a few shots of bourbon. He vaguely recalled emptying about half of the bottle and falling back in bed. _That can't be it._ There was something else that he couldn't remember.

He went to the bathroom and flipped on the light. The shock to his eyes wasn't as bad as it could have been, all things considered. He'd woken up with a fair amount of light in his room. But what was a shock was when he went to the sink and almost opened up the medicine cabinet looking for Advil or something to take away this damn headache. He looked down just in time to see a glass of water and two pills on a scrap of paper. There was a note on the paper, too— _L, hopefully this is the first place you look. B._

"Asshole," Lu muttered but without any real conviction. _Fuck._ He didn't like thinking of Balthazar as a good guy and, unfortunately, it was exactly what was happening. He left him something for the inevitable hangover this morning, and he was starting to remember that he'd seen Balthazar the night before and had come off as a prick. He didn't like it. He downed the pills and water in one go, crumpled up the note, and shoved it into his pocket. Then he picked up the glass and brought it into the kitchen.

Balthazar was already up, leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand. Next to him was an empty plate, and the handle on the toaster was down. As Lu walked in, he took a sip from whatever was in the mug and glanced up. If he was surprised to see Lu up this early, he didn't say anything.

"Sorry," Lu said quietly, setting the glass in the sink. "About last night, I mean. I guess I came off as an ass, huh?"

"A little," Balthazar admitted. He set his mug down on the counter. "But you were drunk. It's not like I haven't dealt with drunk people before." He looked like he was about to say something else but then thought better of it and lifted his mug to his lips again. "Toast? Tea?" he asked finally.

Lu shook his head. "No, thanks. Not sure I can keep anything down yet. I'm waiting for the aspirin to kick in."

"You sure? Tea helps. Promise," Balthazar added with a faint smile on his face. "Got a bit of a hangover myself."

Lu studied his feet for a moment. "Yeah, alright. If you think it'll help." He looked up and Balthazar was still smiling a bit, or at least not looking upset.

He'd been worried that Balthazar would try to ask him about the night before. As it turned out, he needn't have worried. They talked idly but Balthazar never even tried to steer the conversation to anything that happened. Mostly, it was just him recounting what he and the rest of the band had done the night before. (The Sinchesters joined them at the bar and Gabriel had unabashedly stayed in Sam's lap all night. Raphael invited Anna, and she showed up about an hour later. They'd actually had a good time, but Lu didn't regret not being there—he'd needed some time to himself.)

"Anyway," Balthazar went on, "we decided to have another rehearsal today around noon since Castiel has to work this evening and Ray and Gabe are working tomorrow. We figured that, since you're now unemployed, you'd be okay with it."

Lu shrugged. "Yeah. I'll probably get a jump on job-hunting tomorrow." He was suddenly hit with a bolt of curiosity. "You have a job?"

"Yeah. Waiter. I hate it, but it pays well." He smirked. "You Americans are suckers for this accent, you know? I say six words and you're completely in love. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Still…" He shrugged and took a sip of his tea.

Lu stared into his tea for a moment. It wasn't bad, but he needed something with a little more caffeine. His headache had subsided to a dull ache, which was a relief, but he didn't know if it was the tea or the aspirin responsible for that. "That why you took out your snakebites? The job?"

"At Armageddon? Nah. I could have them if I wanted. They don't care." He shrugged again. "I lost the studs when I moved here. I've just been too lazy to go out and get more, and then the holes closed up. I might get them again later but right now, it's not terribly important." He stared unblinkingly for a moment at Lu over the rim of his mug. "So Eve breaks up with you and kicks you out, then you get fired and kicked out of your friend's house."

"Yeah, what of it?" Lu did not want to revisit this discussion. It would make him feel like more of a loser than he did already. Considering he was hung over in his singer's kitchen, he felt like a huge loser.

"Just trying to see if I can wrap my head around this." Balthazar grinned. "You've had a tough couple of weeks, haven't you?"

Lu rolled his eyes. "Okay, thanks. Leaving now." He got up and went back to his new room with Balthazar's laughter following him. But Lu didn't have quite as much time as he would have liked to sulk because it was eleven-thirty. They had to leave a few minutes later, leaving him just enough time to put on a shirt, his shoes, and socks, and locate the belt he'd taken off sometime the night before. His jeans were constantly in danger of falling down without it. When Balthazar knocked on his door—actually, it sounded like he was trying to beat it down—and yelled, "Oi! Let's go!" Lu stuck his tongue out and grabbed his bass and amplifier.

* * *

Band practice was a sloppy affair. Gabriel seemed to be the only person there functioning anywhere close to a hundred percent. This was probably because of his freakish ability to drink as much as he wanted and not get a hangover. Everyone else kept getting off-beat or messing up chords and Balthazar completely forgot a few lyrics. This, Lu couldn't really blame him before, because he'd only been a band member for a few weeks and hadn't memorized the lyrics yet. Still, whenever he fucked-up onstage, he always recovered without the audience being any wiser. Apparently, in rehearsals, that wasn't the case.

He was just happy that Balthazar either wasn't functioning enough, was too distracted, or wasn't interested enough to mess with him during practice. He still looked almost sinfully delicious, but he kept his shirt on and he stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember words to songs he barely knew. Everyone was more focused on their own playing (which was frankly shitty today) than on anyone else, which was also a relief. It was actually kind of interesting to look around at their group during practice, because none of them really looked like their stage personas. Raphael was wearing sweatpants and an A-line shirt, Castiel had his red Radio Shack polo shirt on, and Balthazar's jeans didn't look like they'd been spray-painted on.

Finally, after running through Social Distortion's "Alone and Forsaken," they called it a day and started packing up. There wasn't much they could do when eighty percent of them looked and felt like crap, and it was almost time for Castiel to go to work. They were all too on-edge or too worn out to function anyway. The anticipation of getting an actual contract had actually rendered Gabriel nearly insensible with excitement.

Dean arrived to pick up Castiel a few minutes later. He hefted Castiel's amp out to the Impala, causing the guitarist to smile warmly. He was halfway out the door before he doubled back. "Hey, Lu, have you started looking for a job yet?"

Lu threw his hands up. "Damn it, I just got fired yesterday. No, I haven't."

He gave Lu a mildly offended look, but his voice was even. "We just lost someone last week. If you're interested, I can probably get you an interview. I'm not saying don't look for other opportunities, but they trust me there."

_Oh._ That was actually incredibly nice of him. Not that Lu should have expected anything different from Castiel, since he was practically an angel, but he was used to being jerked around and fucked with, even by his friends. He tried to ignore that negative thought. Maybe the universe had decided it was done ruining his life and was actually going to throw him a bone. "Uh, yeah, actually. That sounds great. Thanks."

Castiel nodded in acknowledgement. "You're welcome. I'll speak to my boss today." He glanced at his watch and then at Dean. The slightly-taller man slid his arm around Castiel's waist and they left, but not before Gabriel called after them, "Hey! Where's Sam?" Dean's only answer was a raised middle finger. Gabriel lobbed a Jolly Rancher at the back of Dean's head but missed miserably.

After that, there was pretty much nothing else for them to do with their lead guitarist missing. Lu and Balthazar stuck around until Sam arrived to pick up Gabriel and then they left, too. They knew Raphael planned to go right back to sleep, but Lu hadn't eaten since dinner the night before and now he was hungry. "Calm down," Balthazar groaned. "We'll get food."

As little as Lu wanted to sit across from him and try to make small talk for the second time that day, he wasn't about to pass up free food, since Balthazar said he'd pay for lunch. Still, conversation stayed fairly light again. Balthazar inquired after Lu's bass playing and asked about his old job, both of which Lu was only too happy to explain. Working at Oak Ridge, especially, sent him on a rant. He expected the blonde to start fidgeting or looking around or at least looking bored, but his eyes barely left Lu's face except when he glanced down at his food. Lu wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but he knew Eve had never paid him this much attention and he didn't know if he liked it or not. After all, the idea that someone he barely knew was more interested in what he had to say than someone he used to date while he was dating her was a bit surreal. What he _did_ know was that seeing the nice side of Balthazar was making it that much harder for him to dislike him, all things considered, and _that_ bothered him. He didn't want to encourage his flirting.

The whole situation was one fucked-up mess. A guy like Balthazar wouldn't want anything to do with him, and something like this could only end badly. It would be just like Lu to read too much into whatever he was doing or saying and get attached, only to find out it didn't mean anything. That was pretty close to what happened with him and Gabriel. The only difference was, they'd been drunk and they both acknowledged afterward that it was stupid. They'd been able to move on, but with Balthazar? He had a feeling that would be a _lot_ easier said than done.


	9. Winners and Losers

The next day, Balthazar was back to his usual irritating self. It was still, by far, better than Michael had been. Balthazar didn't see the need to complain about anything and everything, something that had not only pissed off Lu but everyone else as well. Right now, it seemed like Balthazar _only_ annoyed Lu, which was definitely an improvement. It was one he'd tolerate for the time being because the singer also had his moments where he wasn't quite a total dick.

It started after Lu stumbled out of his room the next morning, still half-drunk from the night before. At least this time, he'd gotten drunk off his own liquor and, as far as he knew, hadn't tried to fuck Balthazar. This, at least, was progress from the night before last. Still, when he went to the kitchen to get some breakfast—or lunch, as the time of day might dictate—he wasn't happy to see Balthazar already in there, hovering over the stove with a cigarette in his mouth and his shirt conspicuously absent. There was a kettle on one burner of the stove and a frying pan on another, and the scent of frying bacon hung heavy in the air.

Normally, this would make Lu even hungrier than he was, but bacon and booze don't mix, no matter how good they are separately. The smoke from Balthazar's cigarette was making his stomach churn as well. Despite enjoying the view of the singer's exposed chest, he was really in no mood to deal with any of this right now. _Fuck it. I'll get something from the gas station._ He turned on his heel and made to leave, but he froze when Balthazar called from behind him, "Oi! Where you going?"

"I'm getting a sandwich from the gas station," Lu said lamely, turning back and crossing his arms. He pointedly looked anywhere but at his bandmate.

"I'm making bacon sandwiches right now. They're bound to be better than anything the Valero has." Balthazar flipped a few pieces of bacon over before looking at Lu. "Besides, the tea will be ready in a minute."

The tea _had_ made him feel better yesterday, but the thought of bacon grease in his stomach was nearly enough to make him vomit. "Bacon is a bad idea," he said. "And that cigarette's not helping, either."

"Ah." Immediately, Balthazar stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray next to the stove. "I've got other stuff in the fridge," he said, flashing him a wide grin that Lu could see out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sure you could find something that won't make you ill in there."

Lu was still half-tempted to leave anyway, until Balthazar added, "Besides, until you get another job, shouldn't you be saving your money?" Lu hated to admit it, even to himself, but Balthazar was right. Spending the fifteen dollars on a fifth of Jack probably hadn't been the smartest move, either. That was probably what bothered him more than anything—when he said something, he was usually right. So, with a sigh of annoyance, Lu went to the fridge and pulled open the door.

He rummaged through the shelves until he located an apple and settled for that. After all, he wasn't sure how much he could keep down right now. His stomach was saying it was hungry, but it could quite easily change its mind in five minutes and decide it wanted to be empty. He figured it would be easier for everyone if he didn't try to fill it just yet. Taking a bite, he went to the table and sat down.

After a few moments, he became aware that Balthazar seemed to be looking at him. Against his better judgment, he looked back. "What?" he asked, barely keeping the irritation out of his voice.

Balthazar held his gaze for another ten seconds before he finally set down his spatula. "Tell me. Are you planning on getting wasted every night, or just on weekends?" he asked, slowly approaching the bassist. He didn't _look_ aggravated, but that didn't mean much. Lu figured he could probably look charming and cocky even at full rage. He certainly looked nothing short of charming and cocky right now, anyway. Still, he couldn't withhold his smartass answer.

"What the fuck difference does it make to _you_? If it's _my_ liver and _my_ booze—"

"But this is _my_ house," Balthazar said smoothly. "And if your intention is to kill yourself through alcohol poisoning, I'd prefer if you didn't do it here." He was leaning so close to Lu, he could smell the soap and shampoo he'd used. Even under the scents of cigarette smoke and frying bacon, he still smelled clean. Lu had heard the shower running when he first woke up; it hadn't been more than twenty minutes since Balthazar got out.

And then he started thinking about Balthazar _in_ the shower, which was so distracting that he nearly missed his next words. "Although honestly, I'd much prefer if that wasn't the case at all." But he _did_ hear what he said and saw the way his lips moved when he spoke and it was utterly transfixing. He glanced back up into Balthazar's eyes just in time for the blonde to register where Lu had been looking and the singer's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Understand?" he asked tauntingly.

 _Shut up._ Lu reached up and brought their mouths together in a greedy kiss. He ran his fingers through Balthazar's hair and parted his lips when the other man's tongue licked across them. Balthazar's hand slammed onto the table next to Lu and his other hand went to the back of the strawberry blonde's chair as he easily slid his tongue into Lu's mouth. Lu moaned softly, clenching his hand into Balthazar's hair and hooking the fingers of his other hand in the belt loops of his jeans.

He tasted like the menthol cigarette he'd just put out and toothpaste and something else deeper, something intrinsically him. Lu was sure he'd never get that taste out of his mouth and he was crazy enough right now to believe it was the last thing he wanted anyway. A shudder ran through him as their teeth scraped together and another low moan rose out of his throat. He moved his hand to Balthazar's waist and dug his nails into the skin, enjoying the heat radiating off his body. He was just feeling himself ease into a decent rhythm when the dull whistling of the kettle finally penetrated their consciousness, announcing the water inside sufficiently boiling. More easily than Lu liked, Balthazar pulled himself away to tend to it. "Tea?" he asked, as if they hadn't just been getting better acquainted with each other's tonsils five seconds before.

"Um." Lu gave himself a mental shake. How the Hell was Balthazar able to recover so quickly? He was still reeling, wishing Balthazar would come back and kiss him again. But that was idiotic and the whole situation—kiss and all—clearly affected him a lot more than it affected Balthazar. "Yeah, sure."

Feeling like he was missing something, he took another bite of the apple and stared at it until he heard the _thunk_ of a mug being set down on the table in front of him. He nodded his thanks, not quite trusting himself to speak, and took a sip of tea. It was so hot, it nearly seared his tongue, but it wasn't quite enough to get the taste of Balthazar out of his mouth.

* * *

A few hours later saw him showered, shaved, and back in his room, feeling distinctly less shitty than earlier. He was going back and forth between roughing out a new song and just jamming on his bass, playing around and finding out what chords he liked together. He didn't know what Balthazar was doing and right now, he didn't give a fuck. They'd been in each other's faces a bit too much for the past few days. They both needed some space, if this morning was anything to go by.

His phone buzzed from where he'd dropped it on the mattress. He turned in his chair and eyeballed his phone for a minute, wondering whether or not he should check it. Finally, he decided it was probably smart to at least find out who texted him, so he shoved his notebook away and retrieved his phone.

Apparently, he'd been more absorbed in what he was doing than he thought, because Castiel had texted him more than an hour ago and he hadn't noticed. _Good afternoon, Lu. I spoke to my boss yesterday and he said he would be more than happy to interview you for a job. Floor work, the same thing I do. Tentatively scheduled for Thursday at ten, but he'll give me a definite time when I go on tomorrow. Will that work?_

Well, _that_ was certainly a welcome bit of good news. Even though he didn't really know shit about electronics—not to the extent that Castiel did, anyway—a job was a job, even a part-time one, and he really needed another source of income. Even if their record deal ended up being fairly lucrative for a brand-new band, it would still be awhile before they could live off that money. Plus, it would get him out of the house and let him focus on something else for awhile. _Hey, sounds good. Thanks. Just give me a heads-up when you know for sure._

He checked his other message, which was from Gabriel and sent to him, Castiel, and Balthazar. _Hey, guys! Perdition tonight? I know we just went on Friday but none of us have to work in the morning!_

Lu rolled his eyes. Well, _this_ should be interesting. _Sure, why the Hell not?_ He made sure it sent to the other three and flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He could hear the TV going in the living room. He half-wondered what Balthazar was watching and idly contemplated joining him until he remembered that he'd retreated back into his room to _avoid_ him. He gritted his teeth and rolled over onto his stomach until he heard and felt his phone vibrate again.

 _Speak of the Devil._ It was Balthazar replying to the mass text. _Seems alright to me. When did you have in mind?_

A moment later, Castiel weighed in. _I'm bringing Dean._

Lu snorted with laughter. Well, if one Sinchester was going to be there, the other one wouldn't be too far behind. Sure enough, Gabriel answered with, _Yeah, I'm bringing Sam. I'm still at work but I was thinking we could be there around ten-thirty. I know Ray has to work pretty early tomorrow, but I'll still ask him if he wants to come anyway._

Lu rubbed his temples. Actually, it would be really nice if Ray came along, but when he opened on a Monday, he was seldom inclined to go out the night before. He didn't hold out too much hope that he would be interested.

* * *

For a Sunday night, Perdition was in full swing when the group arrived. Castiel, Gabriel, Sam, and Dean had shown up in Dean's Impala and Balthazar and Lu met them at the club. He really didn't have anything to reference a Sunday night here against because, when he did go to Perdition, it was on a Friday or a Saturday, but apparently Balthazar did. He sailed past the line and right up to the bouncer with a bright smile. "Evening, Inias! How are you?"

Lu couldn't quite tell in the almost nonexistent light, but it looked like Inias was blushing. "I'm good. You?"

"I'm brilliant." Balthazar gestured over his shoulder at the other five. "They're with me. Think you can let us in?"

Inias glanced at them. For a moment, it looked like he was about to say no, but he looked back at Balthazar, who was still flashing that charming smile at him. "Y-yeah, go ahead," he said, moving aside to let them through.

Lu was _sure_ he saw Balthazar wink at the bouncer as they passed. He swallowed an irrational surge of jealousy and followed Gabriel and Sam inside.

They were slammed by a veritable wall of music when they first entered, but that was nothing new. Perdition was known for cranking their sound way up, and if a few people woke up the next morning with their ears still ringing, they didn't bother to complain. After all, anyone who went to Perdition ended up having a good time. Almost immediately, Gabriel dragged Sam toward the dance floor. It was pretty comical, watching five-foot-eight Gabe tugging his six-foot-four boyfriend along. A midget walking a Doberman came to mind. Balthazar went right to the bar to flirt his way to a free drink, and Lu didn't know whether to head for the bar himself—which had been his initial inclination—or join the crush of people dancing. He settled for just standing there awkwardly next to Dean and Castiel.

"Is this what happened Friday night?" Lu asked, shouting to be heard above the music.

"Basically," Castiel yelled back. "Raphael was here, though, and Anna showed up! But Balthazar was still able to get us in without waiting!"

"I think all the bouncers here know him!" Dean added. "Most of them, anyway! He knows all of them, that's for sure!"

And he apparently knew all the bartenders because he got free drinks all night. And every time he made a request at the DJ booth, his song was inevitably the next one played. Balthazar kept dropping easy smiles at damn near every employee he ran into and every single person who asked got at least one dance with him. Lu hated himself for not being able to look away from him almost all night. In the black lights and strobe lights overhead, the blonde looked like an angel, and it was riveting. He _really_ wanted to dance with him, but he reminded himself of how stupid that would be.

Fucking a bandmate, getting involved with him—that would be a mistake. It could wreck everything, and right after they'd gotten a record deal? It wasn't worth it. It would be almost impossible to work with Balthazar after all this—not that it wasn't hard enough already. No, the only way to solve this would be to have a nice long talk with Balthazar after he sobered up.

That didn't mean it was going to happen, though. Lu didn't know how he would even start that conversation, let alone how it would go. It was bound to be awkward and terrible and he wasn't ready to face that right now.

So he stayed by the wall and watched the crowd, making sure that no one was fucking with his bandmates. He wasn't so worried about Gabriel, because Sam was a big guy and looked menacing when he wanted to, no matter how much of a teddy bear he was on the inside, and you'd be an idiot to mess with either of them. But Castiel always looked a bit freaked-out in crowds, even when he wasn't actually panicking, and that made him look like an easy target. Even with Dean within arm's reach, someone might not think twice about harassing him. But mostly, he was watching Balthazar—watching out for him, making sure no one fucked with him, but also making sure he didn't get into trouble. Lu had limited experience with an intoxicated Balthazar, but he seemed to be of the stock that had no problem punching someone out if they said something stupid to him. Yes, he tended not to shy away from fights, but they would be better off not fighting at Perdition. That was a sure way to get them kicked out, and then where would Balthazar be, even with all his flirting?

"Hey, we're gonna get going!" Dean yelled in his ear, jarring Lu from his reverie. He looked at Dean and then over his shoulder, where Castiel was waiting patiently next to Sam, who was holding up a drunk and giggling Gabriel.

"Alright. I'll get _him_ home then," Lu called back, gesturing vaguely in Balthazar's general direction.

"You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I didn't drink anything all night!"

Dean gave him a thumbs-up and led his brother and their boyfriends through the crowd and out the door. As soon as they disappeared, Balthazar arrived out of seemingly nowhere and practically threw himself at Lu. "Hey!" he slurred cheerfully, wrapping his arms around Lu's neck. "Where'd they go?"

"They went home!" Lu answered, letting his arms circle Balthazar's waist against his better judgment. "Actually, I was just about to get you! It's getting late, so we should go, too!"

Balthazar hummed happily and pressed a drunken, sloppy kiss to his lips. He cradled the back of Lu's neck and the taller man couldn't suppress a small shiver. He let himself be kissed for a few moments, but it wasn't the same—it wasn't like this morning. It was uncoordinated and a little unsettling. It wasn't bad—Lu was fairly certain that Balthazar couldn't kiss badly, even if he tried—but the man was definitely drunk. He finally pulled back, running his thumb over the crest of his cheek. "Where are your keys?"

Balthazar mumbled something unintelligible and fished them out of his pocket. "Sorry about that," he added, not that Lu could hear him.

Lu took his keys and, keeping his arm firmly around the blonde, guided him toward the door. _Was I like this on Friday night?_ He hoped not, but he had a feeling he'd been worse. At least Balthazar wasn't trying to fuck him in the car, which was appreciated. Once they got back to the house, Lu helped him into bed, left a couple of aspirin and a glass of water on his nightstand, and closed the door with a definite _click_ between them.

He leaned against the door for a minute or two before finally trudging to his own room. _This isn't good._


	10. Chapter 10

By Wednesday, Lu had pretty much perfected the art of avoiding Balthazar without making it incredibly obvious that he was avoiding Balthazar. Fortunately, the blonde had to work on Monday afternoon and didn't get home until after midnight, by which time Lu had already gone to sleep (without the aid of alcohol, no less). He was gone on Tuesday morning, so Lu managed to enjoy the first half of his day without any external stress. He made a mental note to pick up some cereal from the grocery store because he was usually too lazy to fry bacon first thing in the morning for breakfast and instead just settled for toast. He wasn't particularly hungry anyway, but he trying to savor every second of having the place to himself for a few hours.

Balthazar returned around two in the afternoon, and by then, Lu had holed himself back in his room. He'd made sure to clean up the kitchen (and the bathroom after his shower) so Balthazar wouldn't have anything to complain about. As soon as he was sure Balthazar was home, he plugged his iPod into the dock and started playing The Damned, not so loudly as to be irritating, but loudly enough that it was obvious he didn't want to be disturbed.

He wasn't quite sure why exactly he was avoiding Balthazar. Since Sunday night, the two of them had barely spoken. Lu knew that the events of that night—specifically, the sloppy makeout—were still pretty fresh in his mind, and he had a feeling that Balthazar hadn't been drunk enough to black that part out. Maybe that was why—they were both feeling a bit awkward about it.

But that was stupid. They weren't twelve. Lucifer was twenty-five, for God's sake, and Balthazar was twenty-eight. They should be able to talk about awkward and uncomfortable things. And they had to talk about this, especially if they were going to be working together for awhile. Lu decided to finally say something to Balthazar as soon as possible.

Which is how he ended up sitting at the bar on Wednesday night with Gabe and Sam, the impending conversation with Balthazar still awkwardly un-had.

He hadn't even planned on leaving the house until Thursday, preferring to wait out the days to his job interview spending as little money as possible, but by Wednesday, he was becoming unhinged and almost jumped at the chance of getting out and especially away from Balthazar. The whole day, the blonde had lurked in the living room, watching TV, and the urge to join him was almost overwhelming. For a few moments, he'd seriously contemplated it, wondered if the singer would shift uncomfortably as he sat down, if they'd start talking, if either of them would be brave enough to acknowledge the obvious tension between them. But as appealing as the prospect was, he didn't have the courage to make that first move. So when Gabriel and Sam rolled up to the house shortly after eight, Lu jumped into the closest clean pair of jeans and almost dashed out before Balthazar could ask him where he was going.

"You look tired," Gabe observed, twisting in the passenger's seat to grin at Lu.

"Yeah, well…" He glanced back at the house as Sam pulled away from the curb. "Doing nothing for three days takes a lot out of you."

"Bored?"

"You have no idea. Although I _have_ been able to get a bit of writing done, so it hasn't been all bad."

"Huh. I pegged Balthazar as the exciting type."

"He's at work a lot during the week, I guess," Lu said quietly. Before Gabriel could comment further, he reached between the seats and turned on the radio. That successfully distracted the guitarist, who immediately began to channel-surf until he settled on 91X, a "local, independent radio station" that played a lot of college rock. It was about the only channel their whole group could agree on, a happy medium from all the trashy pop Gabriel listened to and the old punk Lu favored and the nineties grunge that Sam pretended not to like as much as he did. The Red Hot Chili Peppers song that issued from the speakers was far preferable to continuing in the inevitable vein of their conversation, and Lu was perfectly content to stretch out in the back seat and enjoy the song.

As it turned out, the bar they usually went to wasn't far from Balthazar's house—only about three miles, just far enough to make it too far of a walk through a rather sketchy side of town—which was great because they were there fairly regularly. Lu felt himself physically relax as they flashed their IDs at the bouncer (just a formality, since the guy knew them and waved them in) and made their way to the bar. He'd just mentally settled himself in for relaxed spell when Gabriel batted a bottle of Guinness in his direction and raised his. "To wasted days," he joked, and Lu snorted with laughter and obligingly clinked his bottle against Gabriel's and Sam's.

"Anyone else coming by?" he asked casually after taking a sip.

"Nah, or else I would have had you drag Balthazar along. Nah, it's just us tonight."

"Hmm." That was a bit unusual for Gabe, inviting him to a bar with just his boyfriend as company. It probably should have made Lucifer feel a bit like a third wheel, but Sam was fairly easygoing and probably wouldn't let Gabriel start making out with him in front of the whole bar, so he shrugged it off.

They finished off their first and second rounds without incident. By the time the third round came (Sam had only joined them in the first; after that, he stuck with Coke), Gabriel decided to bring up something he must have been meaning to ask for awhile. "So what actually is going on with you and Balthazar anyway?"

_Fuck._ He thought he'd been subtle. He'd been almost certain that he hadn't given himself away by looking at him too long or too intensely, but apparently, he was wrong. Silently cursing, he feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about, Gabe."

The guitarist raised an eyebrow over his bottle. "Really? You don't know what I'm talking about?"

_Deny, deny, deny._ "No, I can't say that I do."

Gabriel looked puzzled for a moment. "Then you're a fucking idiot, because I can't count the number of times I've seen him looking at you. I think he likes you, man."

It wasn't the answer he expected at all, but Lu scoffed. Now he _knew_ Gabriel was just playing with him. "Yeah, right. That's pretty much the exact opposite of how he feels. I mean, he doesn't hate me or anything," he added quickly, "but he definitely doesn't _like_ me. Not like that, anyway."

Gabriel shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"Besides," Lu said before he could stop himself, "even if he _did_ like me, it would be really stupid to pursue anything with a bandmate anyway."

Gabriel gave him a quizzical look but didn't answer. He didn't have to say anything; Lu could read his expression easily. He seemed to be asking, "Is that why you bolted that morning?"

Lu let out a sigh and took another sip of his Guinness. He would never admit it out loud, but that _had_ been one of the reasons why he'd freaked out so badly the morning after they'd slept together. It had been a drunken mistake on both their parts. He distinctly remembered waking up and feeling sore in places that didn't make sense and realizing he was in Gabriel's room. The night before had washed over him in a heady rush of half-remembrances that were only verified by the clothes strewn over Gabriel's floor, the hickeys lining the still-sleeping guitarist's neck (and the one on his own hip), the haphazard twist to the sheets, and, most damningly, the condom in the trash. They wouldn't have even contemplated sleeping together if there hadn't been something insidious lurking between them, and Lu had been twenty-two at the time. He'd been stupid. He'd thought there couldn't be any way that Gabriel would have fucked him sober. He was convinced that it was pointless to even hope, so he quickly dressed and, fighting off the world's worst hangover, dashed out before Gabriel had fully regained consciousness. He validated it to himself later, reminding himself that even if Gabriel _did_ want him like that, getting involved with a bandmate was stupid (it was practically his life's mantra). By the time he realized that maybe there could have been something between them, something that Gabriel genuinely wouldn't be opposed to, Sam had already entered the picture and Lu didn't feel like it was worth coming between them, especially when they were bandmates anyway and God forbid they break up and make everything awkward. No, it was better this way, and Sam was good for Gabriel, and Gabriel was good for Sam. He let it go, and there was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn't mentioned what had happened between them to anyone.

They hadn't even spoken about it with each other, and maybe they should have, if only to clear the air. At this point, rehashing a three-year-old one night stand seemed unnecessary, but then again, if Gabriel was willing to have this discussion… But Sam was right there. No matter how far in the past their affair (or whatever you'd call it) had been, he was pretty sure he didn't want to talk about it right with Sam next to them. He was almost completely sure Sam had no idea in the first place, and over drinks was hardly the time to mention it.

Gabriel looked like he was contemplating saying something, but decided against it at the last minute. He finished off his Guinness and hopped off his barstool, making his way to the jukebox with only the smallest amount of swaying. Lu watched with idle interest as some other guy, who'd been sitting with two other guys who were presumably his friends, went over to Gabriel and said something. Gabriel must not have liked it, because he shot the man a _what the actual fuck_ look. They exchanged a few more words before one of the guys sitting with the stranger got up and approached them. Immediately, Lu's gaze sharpened. He didn't like this at all. He glanced over at Sam to confirm that the taller man was indeed paying attention to what was happening, and he slid off his barstool a moment later as Gabriel glared from one of the strangers to the other. Lu thunked a twenty and a five onto the bar to pay for their alcohol and followed Sam as the third strangers also got up and joined the others at the jukebox.

"It's fine, Alastair," the third man said to the first one, but he wasn't having any of that apparently, because a moment later, he'd taken an almighty swing at Gabriel. Gabriel dodged out of the way just in time, but before anyone else could react, Sam leapt into action and landed a blow square on Alastair's cheek. For a second, they all just stared, stunned, until the second man took a swing at Sam. As foolish as striking the younger Winchester might have been (being six-foot-four and built like a linebacker), Lu didn't even give him a chance; he reacted quickly enough to counter his blow with one of his own.

It just degenerated from there, with a few more swings and dodges getting in before a handful of bouncers appeared to break it up and kick them out. It made Lu glad he'd left some cash behind to pay off their tab because they certainly would have gotten some dirty looks the next time they came back.

The other three got into a car and pulled away, shooting glares at Lu, Gabe, and Sam as they went, but Gabriel just nonchalantly flipped them off as they went. Sam couldn't help laughing, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose to stem the flow of blood. The guy who'd initially thrown a punch at him had managed to get in a lucky jab and gave Sam a bloody nose, but he'd had worse. Lu wasn't particularly concerned with any of them—they'd sustained far worse injuries before. Gabriel was still cackling as he leaned up against the side of Sam's car.

"Alright, this was a good night," he managed to wheeze once he'd finally gotten his laughter mostly under control. "Look," he added, suddenly a bit more serious, "we gotta get back pretty early, so I'm just gonna have Balthazar pick you up, okay? We kind of need to get the moose here home anyway, and you have your interview tomorrow, don't you?"

Lu sighed but nodded. He didn't care enough to argue. He just plopped himself on the curb and waited for Gabriel to call Balthazar.

_That_ would be the world's most annoying conversation, that was for sure.


	11. Don't Drag Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 15 FEB 2013 for slight additional content (I forgot about Lu's accent thing, goddamn it).

The only reason Lu was even allowing Gabriel to call Balthazar to get him was because the neighborhood was rough and he didn't feel like getting knifed tonight. Even though it would be an idiot who would contemplate mugging the six-foot-one strawberry blonde alone (and he never carried cash anyway, so it would be pointless), a small gang could easily jump him and he didn't relish that prospect. So he sat on the curb in a sulky silence until Balthazar's cherry-red Mustang pulled up next to his feet and he stood, waiting for the singer to reach across the passenger's seat and open the door.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Lu chanced a quick glance at Balthazar to try to deduce what he was thinking, but the singer's face was carefully neutral, surrounded by a faint haze of cigarette smoke. Gabriel hadn't said anything when he'd hung up except, "He's on his way," so Lu couldn't be sure if Balthazar was irritated or not. If he was, he was doing an excellent job of disguising it.

But he finally broke the silence. "What exactly happened in there? Gabriel didn't elaborate."

Lu dragged his fingers through his hair. "There was a… minor altercation. Punches were thrown. Noses were bloodied. Patrons were… ejected. Not a big deal. Gabe just wanted to get Sam home and get him patched up."

Balthazar looked him over briefly, flicking his cigarette butt out the window. "You don't look hurt."

"I'm not." He held up his hand, showing him the back of it. "Except a few scraped knuckles. Sam was the one with the bloody nose. One of the other guys probably has a black eye. No one went to the hospital, though."

"That's fortunate."

"Yeah. Like I said, no big deal." Lu still couldn't tell if Balthazar was bothered, either by being left at the house or having to pick him up from the bar. He didn't _look_ upset, but that didn't mean much.

Balthazar eased to a stop at a red light and picked up Lu's hand, his eyes raking over the raw skin over his knuckles. Blood seeped out, but that was understandable. All in all, this fight ended better than a lot of other ones he'd had. Still, it was a wound. "We'll get that cleaned up when we get home," he murmured, finally letting go just in time for the light to turn green.

Lu swallowed and ignored the slight uptick in his heart rate. All he had to do was get through tonight (that should be easy—just wash his hand off as quickly as possible and then go right to bed) and bike over to Radio Shack the next morning for his interview, and then he'd be okay. Presumably.

They fell silent again until Balthazar pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. He led the way back into the house, tossing his jacket across the back of the couch, and into the bathroom, where he rummaged for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a few cotton balls.

"Uh, I don't think that's necessary," Lu started, but Balthazar shot him a warning look.

"Rubbish." He pointed to the toilet seat with the lid down. "Sit."

He decided he didn't feel like arguing and obeyed, but not without a heavy, overdramatic sigh. Balthazar ignored it and doused a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide, taking his hand again as he crouched in front of him.

Lu was barely paying attention, focusing most of it on letting his eyes roam the white tiles of the bathroom floor (purposely avoiding looking at the singer), and so was quite unprepared for the sharp sting as Balthazar touched the cotton ball to the back of his hand. Lu hissed and instinctively tried to pull his hand away, but the other blonde's grip was firm.

"That'll sting a bit," he said belatedly, dragging the swab across Lu's knuckles.

"No shit," Lu muttered.

"There's no need for snide commentary," Balthazar responded with a hint of teasing in his tone. "Besides, you're a big, strong man. I thought you were accustomed to a bit of pain."

Lu fumbled for some cutting remark or another but found himself looking right into the other man's bright blue eyes. His chest tightened and his thoughts scattered. He suddenly wondered _why_ he was so easily unbalanced by a casual glance, a stray touch, an offhand comment. What made Balthazar so different from, say, Castiel or Raphael? Certainly he was no more attractive than they were (and Lu had always been of the opinion that Castiel was the prettiest in the group anyway). Maybe it was the self-assured way he did everything, the confidence (bordering on arrogance) with which he spoke and moved and smirked, like he had nothing to prove to anyone.

But whatever it was, it had his throat going dry and he was grateful Balthazar wasn't a telepath because the only thought racing through his mind was something along the lines of _kiss me right goddamn now_. He just hoped it didn't show on his face.

Balthazar carefully cleaned off the remainder of the blood and pressed a Band-Aid over both of the first two joints before languidly, almost tenderly, running his thumb across the back of Lu's hand. Had the bassist been standing at the time, the action probably would have caused his knees to give out or at least wobble a bit, so he was relieved to be sitting. Balthazar stood up and threw away the used cotton balls, shelved the hydrogen peroxide, and wiped his hands off on his jeans. "You have your job interview tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah. At ten."

He nodded slowly and took a step toward the door. "Should probably get to bed, then."

"Yeah." Lu looked up at him, two sets of blue eyes locking, and a frisson of heat passed between them. The shorter blonde briefly, almost unconsciously, licked his lips, and somehow Lu's legs regained their stability. He stood up, took the two steps necessary to close the distance between them, and pressed his lips to Balthazar's.

His arms slid slowly, tentatively, around Lu's waist before he pulled back slightly, his breathing shaky. "Luce. How drunk are you?"

The taller man barely registered the sibilance attached to his preferred nickname. It sounded okay coming from him. "Not at all." After three drinks in as many hours and considering his alcohol tolerance, he wasn't lying.

Balthazar exhaled sharply. "Oh, thank God." He immediately captured Lu's mouth again, pulling him tighter, and the bassist melted into the kiss, hanging onto the other man.

He felt Balthazar stepping back but keeping his arms locked tight around him and he allowed himself to be steered out of the bathroom and into the hallway. The shorter man shoved him against the wall and the kiss, a mere meeting of lips to this point, deepened as he traced his tongue across Lu's lips, silently seeking entrance. Lu obliged, spreading his lips and fisting Balthazar's collar to keep him close. But the blonde was flush against him, his thigh wedged between Lu's legs, one hand coming up to tangle into his hair as he slid his tongue into the other man's mouth. Lu moaned softly, the sound far more needy than he'd intended, and he felt Balthazar's lips quirk into a smile.

"You alright there, love?" he murmured, pulling back for a moment.

"Yeah, just fine," he murmured, silently cursing the slight twang to his words. His accent was coming out no matter how much he tried to fight it.

The hand that was gripping Balthazar's shirt released the material to fist his short blond curls and tilt his head back to kiss him again. He prayed this was really going to happen right now—something inside him must have snapped because he didn't care anymore that Balthazar was a bandmate and this was fucked-up on so many levels. It felt like they'd been careening toward this, its imminence undeniable. There was no other way this could end, not unless one or both of them had a wild personality shift.

And then he realized just what it was about the older man that had his attention. With the right provocation from the right person, he lost control easily. Michael had the ability to send him into a rage with a few lazily-chosen words. The one and only time they were together, Gabriel had brought him to orgasm so quickly, it was almost embarrassing. Balthazar, too, had his carefully-constructed illusion of restraint crumbling with the barest effort.

The most damning thing about it was that he enjoyed the loss of his control. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he didn't feel alive unless he was _out_ of control. He wanted to feel alive. He wanted Balthazar, even if it was only for tonight. He was going to do exactly what it took to have him.

He didn't even notice that Balthazar's hands had found their way under his shirt until he leaned back just far enough to tug it over Lu's head and cast it to the side. Lu snapped back to his senses in time to pull off Balthazar's ridiculous black V-neck and then their mouths were locked together again and Lu's pulse was skyrocketing. He cradled the back of Balthazar's neck as the other man hooked his fingers through Lu's belt loops and pulled their bodies together, their teeth clacking against each other and sending a shudder down Lu's spine. He moaned again, instinctively grinding into Balthazar's thigh and hating himself for needing the friction, even when he felt the definite bulge already in the singer's jeans.

Lu pushed back against him, sending both of them back against the opposite wall, a few feet closer to Balthazar's bedroom. Balthazar chuckled softly, his lips never leaving Lu's mouth, and slid one hand to squeeze the strawberry blonde's ass. Lu nearly whimpered and dragged his mouth away from Balthazar's to nibble at his neck, scraping his teeth across the spot just underneath his jaw. He couldn't suppress the satisfied smirk that crossed his face when Balthazar exhaled sharply—it almost could have been called a whine—and grabbed onto Lu's hair.

He was panting heavily but then he was back in control, flipping them around and propelling Lu into the wall again. His hands were suddenly everywhere—running over his arms to trace the tattoos found there, over his chest with the light sting of nails, across his back and loosing another shiver through the bassist—while he fixed his lips on Lu's neck, letting his teeth press against his skin and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Lu keened and rutted against Balthazar again, sliding his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and feeling his heart skip a beat when he realized that the older man had gone commando. Balthazar didn't appear to notice and merely shifted his mouth against his neck, letting up on the teeth and just drawing his lips across Lu's skin.

"So, what, are we gonna do this or not?" Lu breathed, hating the way he sounded like a horny teenager almost as much as he hated his accent.

"Yes, we are," Balthazar murmured silkily. His voice was low and rough, rumbling over Lu's skin and sending goose bumps across his neck. Lu couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt the older man smiling. "What's the bloody rush? I know you've wanted me for awhile, but I figured we could at least make this enjoyable."

"Oh, trust me, I'm having _loads_ of fun," Lu panted, not quite able to purge all the sarcasm from his tone. His breathing hitched as one of Balthazar's hands, drifting over his stomach, slipped into his jeans and palmed him through his boxers. He bit his lip to stifle a sharp moan and grinded into his hand. "But you've been a massive fucking cocktease for the last few weeks and I'm kind of over it," he finished breathlessly.

Balthazar chuckled and licked the side of Lu's neck. "I rather doubt that."

"What, that you've been a massive cocktease?"

"Of course not," he breathed, biting down quickly and sharply. The strawberry blonde groaned, half in pain, half in pleasure. "That happens to be something at which I excel. No, I doubt you're over it."

Lu felt his temper flare, but before he could even think of a scathing reply, Balthazar's fingers unbuttoned and unzipped the fly of his jeans, releasing the pressure he hadn't even realized had been building. He gasped and the singer leaned back with an infuriating smirk, his hand sliding back into Lu's jeans, this time into his boxers, to wrap his fingers around the younger man's dick and give a few lazy pumps.

Lu's blue eyes melted shut and he tilted back against the wall, trying and not quite succeeding not to groan. He opened his eyes just long enough to bring Balthazar fully against him and kissed him again, although it was less of a kiss and more of a battle for dominance. It was a battle that Lu already knew he'd lose, but it didn't stop him. The blonde's hand was still down his pants and stroking him with far more purpose than before, and the action was making it incredibly difficult for Lu to focus on anything besides not moaning like a porn star.

And then, just as quickly as he'd started, Balthazar withdrew his hand and reached for the knob of the door next to them. "After you," he murmured with a smirk, nudging Lu toward the door.

Lu was momentarily torn between wanting to keep his dignity and wanting to get laid, but wanting to get laid won out and he ducked into Balthazar's room. As soon as the door was closed behind them, the blonde captured his mouth again and started walking them toward the bed. When the backs of Lu's legs smacked into the bed, he dropped to the mattress. Balthazar's lips never left his and he crouched down to meet his mouth while he tugged off Lu's shoes and socks.

He had no idea how Balthazar was able to multitask like that because his own brain was a frantic jumble of just wanting to touch him and be touched by him. But Balthazar's tongue was tracing patterns on the roof of his mouth and sliding against his and the next thing he knew, the older man was slithering up onto the bed, in between his legs, and rocking his hips against Lu's. The bassist moaned into his mouth, deciding he didn't care how desperate he sounded, and ran his hands over Balthazar's ass before he unbuttoned his jeans.

The blonde's nails dug into his back for a moment before Balthazar finally lifted his head. "Move," he murmured, prodding him toward the head of the bed. Lu scrambled further along, eliciting a grin from the older man, who reached across him and toward the nightstand next to the bed. As he pressed another kiss, all lips this time, to Lu's mouth, he pulled open one of the drawers and fished out what ended up being a bottle of lubricant and a condom.

He was helping Lu wriggle out of his jeans and boxers before the younger man could fully comprehend what was happening and Balthazar was kissing him again and his eyes were drifting shut while his hand went to the back of the older man's neck and kept him there. As if from a distance, he heard the snap of the bottle cap and felt Balthazar shift over him, and then his fingertips, cool and slick with lubricant, were drifting between his legs, ghosting over his now fully-hard erection, and then one of those fingers was pressing against his entrance.

Lu let out a primal moan and his head tilted back as he hissed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he breathed, biting his lip.

"Been awhile?" Balthazar asked in a tone that was half-teasing, half-concerned.

Lu nodded frantically. It had been three years, as a matter of fact. The last time he'd had sex with another man, it had been Gabriel. He had met Eve not too much longer after Gabe met Sam, so he never dwelled on it much. But now it was all he could think about, how woefully out-of-practice he was. Gabriel hadn't been the first, but he had been the last up until this point. "You could say that," he managed, chest heaving as his whole body heated up from that one solitary touch.

"Want me to stop?"

"Fuck, no," he panted, pretending he didn't noticed just how pronounced his accent was becoming. "Just give me a minute."

Balthazar grinned and started thrusting shallowly with his finger, tearing a desperate moan from Lu's throat.

He didn't need as long as he thought he would to adjust, although every time Balthazar slipped another finger inside him, he would ask if he was still okay. By the time the blonde had three fingers buried in his ass, Lu was a flushed, trembling wreck, murmuring obscenities and moaning every time Balthazar moved his fingers. It didn't help that the older man would drag across his prostate every chance he got, sending stars dancing across his vision. But finally, Balthazar had him worked open and he withdrew his fingers and reached for the condom.

The older man pulled his jeans down and tore open the condom wrapper. As soon as he rolled it on, he squirted another palmful of lube into his hand with a quick wink at Lu. "Ready?" he breathed, leaning over him and raking his nails down the strawberry blonde's chest.

He nodded quickly. "Time to make good on your teasing," he replied.

Balthazar flashed him a nearly predatory grin, wrapped one of Lu's legs around his waist, and finally, mercifully, pushed inside him.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Lu gasped, gritting his teeth and rocking against Balthazar's first thrust. He'd forgotten just how good this felt, hadn't been prepared for that first intense wave of intermingled pain and pleasure. It was going to be a repeat of his tryst with Gabe, all sloppy fucking and over way too soon.

But then Balthazar gave a second, harder thrust, and Lu nearly whimpered.

He was wrong. He wouldn't last nearly as long this time. Balthazar was sober and Gabriel had been drunk; while he highly doubted Gabriel had had no idea what he was doing, sobriety made all the difference in technique. Balthazar kept hitting all the right spots and his nails dug into his hips, sending more pleasure coursing through his body. He cried out, back arching off the bed, as the blonde gave a particularly hard thrust, and then he managed to moan, "Slow down."

"I thought this was what you wanted. Hard and fast," Balthazar added pointedly, giving Lu's cock a firm squeeze.

Lu groaned again. "Yeah, but…" His voice trailed off, but somehow, the singer understood, because he smirked.

"Really?" he asked, sounding highly amused. "You're that close already?"

"Fuck you," Lu spat, grateful their conversation had effectively distracted Balthazar. He'd wrapped his other leg around the blonde's waist but he'd paused to grin—well, it was actually more of a leer—down at him. But he should have rethought his witty retort because Balthazar laughed once.

"My pleasure," he quipped, resuming his pace and beginning to pump Lu's erection in time to his thrusts. Lu nearly melted into the mattress, fisting the sheets and trying to focus on not coming right then, but then Balthazar was leaning over him and whispering into his ear, " _Oh_ , yes, love, good boy, you feel so tight, so bloody good on my dick, love the way you feel, so hot and desperate for my dick, aren't you, oh, _God, yes_ , wanted you for so bloody long, so bloody perfect, say my name, come on, love, _fuck_ …!" and somehow he'd known that dirty talking would get him off and he was moaning out Balthazar's name and trembling and all that control he'd been trying to retain crumbled and he was coming so hard he couldn't see straight but it didn't matter because Balthazar was moaning, too, and damned if it wasn't the sexiest sound he'd ever heard and he must have been coming, too, because his thrusts had grown short and shallow and he was slumping against Lu's chest and everything was slowing down and Lu became dimly aware that he was still panting and his stomach was sticky with his own come but he couldn't bring himself to care.

When Balthazar finally raised his head again, he was grinning. "Wasn't quite as long as I thought it'd be, but I'd give that a solid seven, seven and a half."

Lu snorted with laughter, too drained to be offended. "I haven't gotten laid in a month. I don't know what you expected from me."

The older man shook his head, still grinning, as he slipped back out of Lu and peeled off the condom. "You can sleep in here if you want to," he said, pitching the rubber into the trash. "I'm not gonna kick you out or anything."

"I appreciate that," Lu said with a touch of snark, but he was inwardly pleased to discover that his accent had left his voice. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Balthazar rolling his eyes at his comment. Still, it was nice to fall asleep next to someone again. The few times he and Eve hadn't been fighting, he'd slept quite comfortably next to her. Admittedly, Balthazar was different from her, but having someone close had always made it easier to fall asleep.

Before he finally drifted off, he couldn't help wondering what happened with the two of them now.


	12. So Far Away

Lu woke up shortly after seven with a pleasant ache throughout his body. That in and of itself was unusual, but as he shifted beneath the sheets and opened his eyes, he realized he wasn't in his new room—he was in Balthazar's. He grinned at the sudden recollection of the night before rolled over to face the singer.

Except next to him, the bed was empty. Balthazar was gone.

Feeling more annoyed than anything, Lu sat up and looked around. Well, wherever Balthazar was (most likely making breakfast; Lu was typically irritated by "morning" people as Balthazar seemed to be, but none of them had ever made him breakfast before), he'd left Lu with the perfect opportunity to poke around his room.

He quickly located his boxers on the floor and wriggled into them, taking a moment to look around after he did so. His clothing—including his shirt, which he distinctly recalled being stripped off in the hallway—was strewn on the floor and he gathered it up. From what he could tell, Balthazar had already picked up his own clothes, as well as made his side of the bed. Lu set his clothes on the bed and rubbed his eyes for a moment.

Somehow, Balthazar had been able to wake up, clean up, and duck out of the room without waking him. He must have been exhausted to sleep through something like that. As he grinned at that thought—as well as remembering last night's events—he peered around at the posters tacked to the walls.

He hadn't noticed them during that first drunken, cursory glance that night they were all over here, but then again, the room's centerpiece had enraptured him. Now that he was alone, he was fully able to appreciate the Misfits poster that had obviously been moved several times (maybe from his home in England, judging by its battered state), Alkaline Trio next to the closet door, Sex Pistols at a rakish angle near the window, The Damned on the back of the door. The mirror had photos taped to it, photos mostly of Balthazar but with various other subjects next to him. Most of them were people he didn't recognize, but one had contained Balthazar and Castiel with what seemed to be Perdition in the background. Castiel had a stupid grin on his face, one Lu had never seen before, and Balthazar was kissing his cheek with an equally stupid grin. Lu felt a twinge of jealousy, but he reminded himself that Castiel was dating Dean and that dating a bandmate was inherently idiotic anyway.

The other photograph that he pinpointed was one of the full band in the midst of a performance. Lu grinned in spite of himself. Dismissing the altogether stupid look on his own face, they looked good. Balthazar seemed to fill the whole picture, and in the background, there was Castiel and Gabriel leaning against each others' backs and rocking out. Raphael had a strangely triumphant look; he'd clearly just nailed a drum solo. Lu couldn't recall the picture being taken, but he knew lots of people probably took pictures at their shows and someone had probably sent it to Balthazar, although how they'd gotten his email address or phone number or address was beyond him. Maybe he had another friend who attended shows. After all, there was still a lot of Balthazar's time that remained unaccounted for, time when he wasn't home or with the band.

Lu finally slunk out of Balthazar's room, half-surprised he hadn't already been interrupted, and went to his own room to put on some clothes he hadn't worn for the past two days.

Once he changed into a T-shirt and basketball shorts (not that he played basketball; he had the height for it but not the talent), he went to the kitchen, following the lingering scent of tea.

_Oh._ The kitchen was empty, too. There was a note on the table along with a spare house key, though.

_Went to work early. Good luck on your interview. –B_

The note was almost purposely vague. Those two sentences conveyed nothing but sheer neutrality, which didn't sit well with Lu. He couldn't get a gauge for how Balthazar felt about what happened the night before. Now more annoyed than before—not to mention a bit confused—Lu set himself to the task of preparing his own breakfast. It was something he hadn't usually done before starting to live with Balthazar, but the Brit had got him into the habit and now he was hungry. It was an irritating realization.

After microwaving the remainder of the tea that Balthazar had so kindly left for him, he scrambled some eggs and made toast. He wasn't as skilled a cook as the singer, but he figured he wasn't half bad, considering he hadn't lived by himself in two years. Eve had tried to teach him how to cook a few things besides grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, but she hadn't been the greatest teacher and everything she said fell out of his head before he could internalize it. Somehow, though, he'd been able to pick up on the few things Balthazar had done while hung-over and exhausted. Admittedly, breakfast wasn't complicated, but even marinating chicken had been beyond him before this.

Lu drummed his fingers on the counter as he waited for the toast to pop up. The smell of Balthazar's menthol cigarettes still hung in the air, but far from making his stomach turn, it just emphasized the blonde's absence. He should have been there, but he wasn't—and Lu couldn't figure out how he should feel about it. He did know that he didn't like it, though.

* * *

After breakfast, he showered, shaved, and changed his clothes again—this time, into khakis and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. He left his hair alone since he was going to have to put a helmet on anyway and slid the house key into his pocket. He made absolutely sure to clean up what little mess he'd made in the kitchen and, with a quick pat-down of his pockets to ensure he had his wallet, phone, and keys, left the house at nine. It would take him forty-five minutes or so to bike to the Radio Shack that Castiel worked at, but he wanted to be sure he made it with time to spare. Showing up late for a job interview was definitely not good.

Although if he did end up nailing the job, he was going to start making the trip in street clothes so he didn't fuck up his work clothes. A round trip of an hour and a half left quite an opportunity to wreck his clothes, and then there was the possibility of unpredictable rain. No, all in all, unless the insurance company coughed up for a new car soon, he'd be biking until they finally got their signing bonus.

Still, the thought of a signing bonus perked him up enough so he actually sort of enjoyed the trip into the city. It was a pain in the ass going up the two hills and the sun was starting to gain a bit of intensity, but it didn't get bad until he was about eight blocks away from the store, and by then, he had buildings to keep him in relative shade.

He found a bike rack about a block from the store and locked his bike, slipping the helmet onto the chain as well. He walked the rest of the way, arriving with five minutes left, which was fortunate since Castiel had stationed himself outside the store to presumably keep an eye out for him.

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"You cut it close," Castiel said, and Lu couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. If the guitarist had a sense of humor (and it sometimes seemed that he did), he'd mastered the art of the deadpan delivery.

"I prefer to think of it as I kept everyone in suspense," Lu joked.

A small twitch at the corner of Castiel's mouth indicated a smile as he turned back to the store. "My boss is a man named Joshua. He's in the back." Castiel pointed to a slightly-shorter man with a serene sort of face. "Just tell him who you are and that I sent you."

Lu nodded once, tucked in his shirt (he suddenly wished he'd thought to wear a belt; he looked like an unemployable mess), and went to the back.

Joshua turned to look him over before Lu could even speak. "I'm assuming you're Lu Pellegrino?"

Lu nodded. "Yeah—yes. That's me. Castiel sent me over."

"Hmm." Lu didn't know what to make of the "hmm" but waited until Joshua nodded once. "Joshua Milligan. It's good to meet you."

"Good to meet you, too."

"So, Lu, if you don't mind, what caused your current unemployment?"

Lu hadn't been expecting this question until a little later, so he blinked in surprise. "Oh. Um, the store was making cuts and I was on the short list."

"So if they weren't making cuts…"

"I'd still be working there."

"What kind of store?"

"Grocery store. I worked produce. I was there for about two years."

"Do you think they'd recommend you if I were to call and ask?"

Lu very nearly said "probably" until he remembered that, as positive as it sounded, it was still a flaky answer. "Definitely. They never complained about my work performance."

"Never late?"

"Maybe once, but my ex had just totaled my car."

Joshua chuckled softly. "You have an alternate means of transportation now, I'm assuming?"

"Yes. I have my bike."

"Tattoos?"

He had ten counting the huge _FUCK_ emblazoned on his arm. He made a mental note to dig out all his long-sleeved shirts to wear under his work polo—assuming he got the job. "I keep them all covered up."

"So that's a yes."

"Yes. Ten."

Joshua nodded again, and for a second, Lu worried that he'd just damned himself. "Well, Castiel speaks highly of you, so I'll tell you what. I'll put you on the schedule for next week when he's working. He'll give you some training and we'll decide after that if we're going to keep you or not. It's a big difference between the produce department and the iPad rack. Sound fair?"

In Lu's opinion, it was more than fair. Then again, he'd been getting fucked over at nearly every turn for the past few weeks, so getting a break like this was a relief. He nodded with a grin. "Sounds great. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Talk to Castiel on your way out and find out when he works. Be here a half an hour before the shift actually starts on the first day—I'll have some paperwork for you."

Still grinning, Lu nodded again. "No problem."

Joshua turned away, the end of the conversation clear, but Lu barely noticed. He nearly skipped over to where Castiel had just finished up with a customer.

"How did it go?"

"He says I'm going to be working with you all next week. Training and all that crap." He could hardly contain his excitement. "When do you work next week?"

"Monday, at eight-thirty."

"Alright. He told me to be here a half an hour before then, so…"

"For the legal aspect?"

"Yeah. Paperwork, he said."

Castiel nodded. "Wonderful. I look forward to it."

Lu's grin widened. "See you at practice."

"Tonight at seven, correct?"

"Yep." With one last wave, Lu sailed out of the store and back down the street.

Relief had flooded through him at the realization that he'd found a new job so quickly. He was practically walking on air as he crossed the street and finally stopped about a block away from the store. He leaned up against an empty bike rack and checked his phone, which contained a new text from Ray.

_How'd it go?_

Lu grinned again. _I start training next week_ , he sent back and pocketed his phone again.

And then it hit him. _No fucking way._ He stood up and turned around, staring at the spot where his bike should have been.

It wasn't there anymore, though. In place of his bike was the remnants of his bike chain, lock included—why whatever motherfucker it was had cut the chain and not the lock was beyond him—with his helmet laying on the concrete next to the rack.

Some fucker had stolen his bike!

Rage bubbling up, he picked up his helmet and nearly screamed in frustration. Great, not only had his locked bike been jacked, but the asshole had cracked his helmet in the process.

Just when he thought his life was on an upswing, shit like this happened. He picked up what was left of his bike chain and was sorely tempted to whip it against the closest wall in frustration, but he balled his hands into fists until he was able to calm himself down. It would figure if he accidently clipped someone with the chain and ended up getting arrested.

Once the proverbial red had faded from his vision, he gritted his teeth and called Ray. Unsurprisingly, the call went to voicemail. Ray was working this morning, too. He knew Castiel was working, so he called Gabriel next. He didn't answer, either, but Lu had no potential explanation for that.

He sighed and finally called Balthazar. The motherfucker picked up on the third ring.

"What happened now?" Balthazar asked without preamble.

"My asshole ripped off my bike."

There was a beat of silence. "I see. Have you already had your interview?"

"Yes," he practically spat. "I got the job, thank you very much."

"Congratulations. So I'm assuming you need a pickup, then."

"Yeah. I do."

"Alright. The one on 32nd Street, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Give me fifteen minutes."

* * *

He was only ten minutes in arriving, but Lu had managed to work himself back into a frothing rage again—this time, at the world in general. He had to figure out how to get to the store now, and he was hesitant to ask Castiel, who got a ride from Dean anyway.

"There's always the trolley," Balthazar suggested, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lu was having none of his shit today. He was actually fairly close to punching Balthazar in the face at that comment. It wouldn't solve anything, but it would make him feel better, at least for a few minutes. Still, he restrained himself. The man _was_ driving, and it was possible that a punch to the face would cause him to veer off the road. "I guess," Lu finally ground out. He didn't relish the idea of taking the bus to the transfer station and then the trolley from there, but unless he got his car money…

"Don't worry," Balthazar said quietly, the mirth fading away. "You'll be fine."

Lu felt himself finally slumping back in his seat. He didn't know how or why, but Balthazar's gentle reassurance soothed him a bit. "Yeah, I know. It's just irritating."

"That's life," the singer said, and as Lu ran his thumb over the chain in his hand, he wondered why those words from anyone else would piss him off, but from Balthazar, he could handle hearing them.


	13. She's a Knockout

Balthazar threw the Mustang in park in front of the house. Lu was unbuckled and halfway out of the car before he realized Balthazar hadn't moved from his seat or even turned the car off. "You're not coming in?"

"I took my lunch early. I have work until four," Balthazar said.

"You didn't mention that."

Balthazar simply shrugged. "I have to be back in twenty minutes, so if you're getting out, I suggest you do it soon."

Lu nodded, his chest tightening. _Crap._ Here he'd thought Balthazar had been on his way home anyway, but instead he had to work for another five hours. He'd gone out of his way to help him out and hadn't even had the decency to give him crap for it.

But then there had been the note left in the kitchen, cold as snow and transparent as a brick wall. He didn't know how Balthazar felt about what had happened in just the last twenty-four hours, but it was a pretty safe bet that the no-strings-attached sex actually had some pretty strong strings. Maybe it had been a mistake. One night of fun wasn't worth fucking up the band dynamic.

But Balthazar had to go back to work. There wasn't time to discuss this now, and even if there was, Lu wasn't sure he wanted to. He didn't have the necessary emotional energy after what had been one confusing-as-Hell morning. _Later_ , he told himself. They'd talk later. Before the show tomorrow.

* * *

They never did talk before the show the next day, something Lu ended up deeply regretting. He went right back to sleep after he let himself back into the house (his sleeping schedule was getting severely fucked up, but he couldn't summon the energy to care), waking once Balthazar came back home with food from Armageddon. They ate dinner in near silence, both aware of the obvious tension between them but unwilling to openly acknowledge it.

Lu had figured that the sex would have dissipated whatever awkwardness there was between them, but that assumption was clearly wrong. From what he saw, Balthazar barely looked at him the whole time. It didn't help that his mind kept replaying last night over and over and making it incredibly difficult to focus on the gnawing hunger in his stomach. Every time he remembered how it felt to have the singer pressing against him or the hickeys they'd left on each other or clinging to him as he slowly went blind, he shifted in his seat. Not that Balthazar noticed.

But maybe it was for the best. They'd had their fling and, sure, it had been _amazing_ , but trying to pursue something romantic with a bandmate was trouble (as he reminded himself for the hundredth time) and letting go would be better for everyone. And, yeah, they should actually talk about it, but it was difficult when Balthazar didn't even make eye contact.

When the blonde left the house after dinner, Lu knew he should have tried to get him to stay, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Instead, he cleaned up and sprawled out on his bed, wondering how he'd managed to do exactly what he'd been trying _not_ to do. This was exactly why he'd been so resistant to having sex with Balthazar in the first place. The moment he threw his inhibitions away was the moment his fears were realized.

After twenty minutes or so of sulking, Lu decided that he wasn't going to improve his situation by brooding, so he went into the living room and started watching _Doctor Who_ on Netflix. He supposed he could have practiced some of the songs or even started working on a new one, but he didn't feel like being productive. What he _felt_ like doing was sitting Balthazar's ass down and figuring this mess out, but the singer was gone and when he wasn't, Lu's nerve failed him, so he settled for the pathetic alternative.

He fell asleep on the couch before Balthazar came home, but when he woke up, he discovered that the TV had been turned off and there was a blanket draped over him. He wanted to shake Balthazar in frustration, but of course, he'd already skated off to work, so that wasn't going to happen.

Finally, he pulled himself together, put away the blanket, made himself breakfast, and called Ray who, mercifully, was not working that day.

* * *

Lu and Ray drove around town and just wasted several hours until the time came for them to start heading over to The Garrison for the show. Since Balthazar was nowhere to be found when Ray went to drop Lu off at home, the bassist just grabbed his gear, tossed it in Ray's truck, and went with him to the venue. He called Balthazar once on the way, just to verify that he was safe.

"Hello."

"Balthazar, it's Lu."

"I know."

Lu ground his teeth for a moment. "You know we have a show tonight, right?"

"I know."

T-Mobile needed to figure out how to punch someone in the face via phone call. "Alright, well, will we be seeing you there?"

"I'll be there. Give me ten minutes."

Lu very nearly said, "We need to talk," but was hyperaware of his best friend right next to him. He settled for, "Alright. See you later," and just hanging up.

"You okay there?"

"Just great," Lu said bitterly.

"Balthy being an asshole?"

"Little bit."

"Try not to let him get to you. You just got a job, remember?" Ray said encouragingly.

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Some ass-clown stole my bike while I was at the interview."

"Oh." Ray took a second to shoot him a sympathetic look. "Jesus, man, I'm sorry. So now what?"

"Well, walking is basically out of the question. I can't ask you or _him_ "—here, they both knew to whom he was referring—"and I can't really ask Castiel since he gets his ride from Dean and that has the potential to be awkward, and there's no way I'm bumming a ride from Gabriel. So basically, I can either take public transportation or I'll have to find some way of getting another bike—which, incidentally, won't fit in his stupid fucking car. Of course, that's assuming my insurance company isn't about to cut my check for a new car, which they should have done _months_ ago but still haven't, so I don't see why they would now."

Ray nodded slowly. "Hey, it just occurred to me. Your last day at Oak Ridge was last Friday, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You should have one more check there, then."

Lu smacked his forehead. "I'm a fucking idiot. Trust me to forget the one check I actually _have_ coming to me."

"Hey. I'll give you a ride over there after work tomorrow, okay?"

Lu sighed and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

Ray nodded again. "So," he said, evidently weighing his words carefully. "Are you sure you're okay with living with him and everything? I mean, I know he can be a bit of an ass—not like Mikey, but close—so, you know, how are you handling that? You seemed reluctant to accept his offer in the first place."

"Yeah, I know." He was absolutely _not_ telling Ray he'd slept with Balthazar. That would be right at the top of the list of Very Bad Ideas, a list that already had quite a few entries as it was (including sleeping with Balthazar). It wasn't that Ray wouldn't understand, because he surely would—well, maybe not _understand_ , exactly, but he wouldn't freak out. He knew about Lu's latent (well, now, not-so-latent) bisexuality and even if he didn't know about Gabriel, he knew about the ones before him. Still, there was a reason Ray didn't know about Gabriel either, and that was because things would be awkward enough with just Lu and the bandmate he'd fucked aware of what happened. If someone else knew, it was bound to get weirder. Lu wanted to avoid that as much as possible. "It's been… interesting," he acceded, running his fingers through his hair. "He's not a bad roommate or anything. It's just…" He wondered how much to say before he gave away too much. As a rule, he disliked delving too much into his romantic life with anyone, even Ray. The only reason the band had been aware of how shitty things had been with him and Eve was because of how different he was after he'd spent enough time around her. "He knows how to get on my nerves."

"Sounds like Mikey."

"He is nowhere near as bad as Mike." This was one point that Lu would stay firm on. "Mike was just an asshole. Balthazar isn't a bad guy."

"Then what's going on with you two? You seemed like you would've punched him if he were here."

Lu didn't want to flat-out lie to him, but he did. "Honestly, he's been weird for the last few days. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on myself."

He was a convincing liar when he needed to be. Ray nodded in acceptance.

* * *

There were not enough curse words in the English or any other language to adequately convey how frustrated and angry Lu was at two the next morning.

At first, he thought it was a harmless little thing. Balthazar had indeed shown up to the venue a few minutes after Lu and Ray arrived, and when the singer stripped off his shirt before the show, Gabriel made the inevitable lewd comment about the bruises along his neck and collarbone (as Lu surreptitiously adjusted his shirt to hide his), which Balthazar shrugged off with a playful leer. And then there had been that gorgeous girl who'd somehow managed to catch the blonde's eye, a blonde herself and just an inch or two shorter than Balthazar. Lu had tried to ignore his rising irritation as he openly flirted with her, but then they launched into a cover of Social Distortion's "She's a Knockout" and Lu fought to not crack his bass over either Balthazar or the girl's head, or even just against the nearest wall. He wanted to break something as he was forced to listen to Balthazar sing the lines, " _She's exotic but not foreign, built like an old Cadillac—she's a knockout. Once she's left your life, she ain't never comin' back—she's a knockout. With her black silk stockings and her high-heeled shoes, she's a knockout. Once she's left your life, you'll surely sing the blues—she's a knockout._ " He was so obviously flirting with her and she was so obviously eating it up that Lu couldn't figure out for whom he was most embarrassed: Balthazar, the girl (he found out later that her name was Rachel), or himself.

But apparently, it hadn't all been idle flirting, because after the show, she was there before Balthazar even had his shirt back on, and they wound up in a corner of the backstage area, drawing dark glares from the bassist.

It was all the answer Lu needed. Clearly, Balthazar had decided that the liaison between them was a one-time-only thing and, not only that, he liked this girl better than he liked _him_. Lu reminded himself that it was the _point_ , that there couldn't have been anything between them anyway, that it was good Balthazar had found someone else (even if it would only be for the night, which seemed to be the rule for him), that maybe they could put this behind them and just move on.

Maybe in twenty years, he could look back on the early days of the band as a total mess, after they'd gotten all their shit straightened out, and he could remember that he'd fucked both the backup guitarist and the new singer without anyone else in the band finding out. Maybe then it wouldn't cause bile to rise in his throat to imagine Balthazar with that pretty blonde or some other girl (or other boy) wrapped around him as he fucked their brains out.

But that was nowhere close to being in the immediate future, so when Ray suggested he drive Lu home (Anna stretching out on the backseat; she'd been waiting after the show for the drummer), Lu immediately accepted and pointedly ignored the way Balthazar and that girl were still leaning in the corner. He pretended he didn't notice that she already had his jeans unzipped and he hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on, so all the tattoos on his torso were on full display, along with the tantalizing line of his spine. For a moment, he was slammed with the urge to lick his way up Balthazar's back, but he shoved it down and followed Ray out to the truck.

He hadn't expected this crap, either. He got back to the house around twelve-thirty and let himself in using the spare key he hadn't given back. He took a quick shower, went back to his room, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed right into bed, just settling himself in for what would most likely be a quiet night when he heard the front door bang open.

He was immediately alert again, going for the baseball bat in his closet (he sucked at basketball, but he was a pretty decent baseball player) when he heard a female's giggles and murmuring that had a decidedly British bent to the accent.

 _Fuck!_ It hadn't even occurred to him that Balthazar would bring her home with him.

Lu stayed frozen behind his door, listening. There was the distinct sounds of kissing, the girl's soft, breathy moans, and then Balthazar's door opening and slamming closed quickly. Lu knew he should put his headphones in and listen to music or something, _anything_ but torturing himself like this, but he couldn't. He could hear the girl's moaning getting louder and he wanted to put his hands over his ears to block it out. The sounds from the bedroom were conjuring images both of their tryst two nights before and what he could be doing to her now, and Lu felt a wave of nausea crash over him. As quietly as he could, he ducked out of his room, grabbed a bottle from the liquor cabinet (he had no idea what was in it, but he'd find out in a minute), and slunk back into his own room, closing the door softly behind him.

He didn't want to imagine what was going on in the other room, but he could hear it. He unscrewed the cap from the bottle and started drinking. Whiskey.

The girl nearly screamed in what was undeniably pleasure, and then there was the sound of Balthazar moaning softly. Lu's gut twisted as she suddenly started murmuring and moaning almost nonstop and Lu finally covered his ears, but it didn't drown out the sounds from the bedroom. He wrenched his hands away from the sides of his head and took a long swig of whiskey. He blinked when he felt something wet hit the back of his hand and looked. _Did I spill…?_

No. His heart clenched and he shut his eyes. He'd started crying. _I am_ not _crying over that asshole. No, fuck him. He can fuck whatever girl he wants to. It's none of my fucking business._ But the whiskey finally kicked in and he found himself sinking to his side on his mattress, hands fisted in his hair while tears burned his eyes. He curled in on himself and nearly sobbed, but it came out as more of a hoarse whimper. Every part of him was fighting to scream in anguish— _Oh, this is so not good. I cannot be actually crying over him. This is ridiculous_ —but he kept his mouth shut and cried as quietly as he could.

Balthazar had made it perfectly clear that whatever was or had been between them was only about sex. In his mind, Lu could be easily replaced with anyone. Lu was forgettable. Balthazar had never needed him.

Lu's stomach twisted, threatening to eject the whiskey that hadn't yet flooded into his veins even though he wasn't even that drunk. No matter what he'd tried to tell himself, it was a lie. Lu had wanted to believe that he could handle this with Balthazar. He wanted to believe that maybe Balthazar wasn't just playing some sick game with him. He wanted to believe that Wednesday night had actually meant something.

But it hadn't, and Lu knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

Even after the deed was done (after nearly an hour—Jesus, he hadn't had that kind of stamina; why would Balthazar ever come back to him after he met someone else who could last that long?) and the house fell quiet, Lu stayed awake, staring with a numb sort of acceptance at the wall. He tried to fall asleep, but it was only after another six shots of whiskey that he was able to pass out.

The heat from the whiskey did little to warm him, though, and when he finally did sleep, it was disjointed and nightmarish.

It shouldn't have surprised him, though. His whole life had basically gone to Hell. Now he just had to figure out how to salvage this mess.


	14. A Place in My Heart

Whatever misery that had flooded through him the night before was gone by sunrise to be replaced by pure anger. So Balthazar had been playing with him, messing with his head. That wasn't fair—he clearly had no idea how something like that could cause a band to tear itself to pieces. He wasn't a plaything for Balthazar to use once, grow bored with, and just discard.

So with that anger emboldening him (with just a hint of whiskey running through his system still), he waited until he heard Balthazar call a cab for the girl and the door closed firmly behind her. Once he was sure she was gone, he slammed his door open and stomped toward the kitchen, following the sounds of pots and pans and the scent of a freshly-lit menthol cigarette. Gearing himself up for one of his famous tantrums (Michael had _nothing_ on Lu at full rage), he rounded the corner and half-shouted, "So what the almighty fuck was _that_ about?!"

Balthazar froze. He wore a shirt this morning, for which Lu was grateful because he could be angry all he wanted—it still didn't stop Balthazar from being an attractive bastard. The singer straightened up and turned toward Lu. He looked his bandmate over for a split second before meeting his eyes. When he finally spoke, everything about his demeanor was ice-cold, tight, and controlled. "Rachel needed me to call her a cab. I certainly wasn't going to make her walk home."

"That's not what I meant, and you fucking know it!" Lu was still plenty angry, maybe even more so than before, but this anger, rooted in frustration, was less a welding torch and more a forest fire. Welding torches were contained, controlled, while still being enough to burn, but forest fires were out of control, and if there was one thing Lu couldn't afford to be right now, it was out of control. "Why did you even fucking _bring_ her here?!"

Balthazar, who had gone back to poking at his eggs with a spatula, calmly set down the utensil, turned off the stove, and moved the pan to a cool burner. "I have a feeling this is going to take awhile," he said by way of explanation. He wiped his hands on the dish towel hanging from the handle of the oven door before turning back toward Lu. "Alright. First of all—and correct me if I'm wrong—but I was under the impression that my sex life was none of your business. I am right in thinking that, yes?" he added.

Lu gritted his teeth and gave one quick nod.

"Ah. That's what I thought. So since we've established the fact that that _is_ the case, let me explain, even though you don't deserve an explanation.

"It's simple. Rachel was— _is_ —attracted to me. To me, she is far from unattractive." Balthazar gave an exaggerated shrug. "Two reasonably attractive, attracted, and fully-consenting adults are able to have sex if they so choose, and we did."

Lu was still plenty furious, but the detached way that Balthazar was able to describe what had happened made his blood run a bit cooler. It sounded so clinical, like he didn't really care if it had happened or not.

"So since I've provided an explanation—something I absolutely did not need to do, I'll remind you—answer me this: why do you even care?"

He couldn't pinpoint what it was about that question that caused something inside him to snap, but it was the catalyst for pulling his fist back and swinging at the singer.

Balthazar saw it coming, he knew, but he did nothing to deflect it or even step out of the way. He accepted the punch even as it sent him reeling backwards, but he bounced back and before Lu could brace himself, he'd punched the strawberry blonde right back.

 _Finally_ a reaction he could gauge. For those two and a half seconds, there was something else besides the cool restraint on Balthazar's face. For that brief window of time, Lu could see his pain—both physical and emotional—and frustration, and _that_ was what Lu needed. He needed to see how Balthazar really felt, and it only showed when he was swinging at him.

"You asshole!" he yelled once he'd regained his stability. Balthazar made no move to strike him again, and he wasn't about to hit him, either. "I'm not a fucking toy! You can't just fucking throw me away after you're done with me!"

 _Now_ Balthazar looked suitably like he'd been slapped in the face. "I didn't—" he started, but Lu cut him off.

"Yes, you fucking did! You just fucking left without waking me up, like you couldn't stand to be around me, you didn't say one fucking word at dinner, I didn't fucking see you _at all_ until the fucking show"—he was aware that he was spewing more profanities than strictly necessary, but he couldn't scrounge up a single fuck to give—"and when you finally _did_ show up, you didn't speak to me at all. You brought home some strange girl less than two days after we…" He hadn't meant for _that_ to spill out, but there it was. "After _we_ fucked, so what the fuck am I supposed to think? This is exactly why I fought against this so hard—you can't fuck people you work with and expect things to stay the same!"

"Luce," Balthazar began again, a desperate edge to his voice, but Lu interrupted again. The bassist was on a roll and he wasn't about to be stopped now, even with the throbbing at his temple where Balthazar's fist had connected.

"No, I can't fucking do this! You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you? I can't fucking _think_ when you're around! I can't stop thinking about _you_!" _Shit!_ That wasn't supposed to slip out, either. Too late to take it back now, though. He barreled on without letting Balthazar digest much. "I can handle a _lot_ of bullshit, Balthazar! I can deal with losing my job and getting my bike jacked and getting kicked out of _two_ different homes, but I cannot fucking deal with people treating me like I'm not even a fucking person! So whatever sick psychological game you're trying to play with me, just fucking _stop_!"

 _There._ It was all out now. He'd said his piece (and a bit more that he hadn't intended to say) and Hurricane Lucifer had blown over. He knew it was possible they were only in the eye of the storm, especially after he heard what Balthazar had to say in response, but he'd calmed down a bit now that he'd finally said what he needed to say.

Balthazar waited a full five seconds before speaking. "Are you done?" he asked finally, tentatively.

"For the moment."

The singer nodded. "Alright." Lu couldn't read the expression on his face, but he hoped he was about to get a damn good explanation. "I'm sorry, Luce," Balthazar said softly. "I'd be lying if I said I had no idea that what I was doing was a bit dickish of me, but I had no idea that you… thought I was using you. That was so far from my intention that it makes me ill, and I can only apologize again for what was obviously a horrible case of miscommunication."

"Rachel?" Lu asked sharply.

A hint of a smile played across the singer's face for a moment. "Never let it be said that I'm completely above petty games. She was an attempt to make you jealous."

"It fucking worked," Lu muttered.

"Obviously, or I have a feeling we wouldn't be having this conversation. At least, not now."

"I meant to talk to you about this yesterday, you know."

"But you didn't."

"You didn't even look at me."

Balthazar was quiet for a long moment. "I don't have an explanation for that."

"I don't want an _explanation_ , I want—" Lu realized what he was saying and stopped before he said _I want you_. No, he was sick of being the emotional, needy wreck. He was done with it.

The blonde somehow seemed to know what he'd intended to say, and he shook his head, half-smiling. "I understand," he murmured. He'd stepped closer without Lu noticing, but now that he was here, he was able to reach out and cradle the back of Lu's neck. For a second, he looked to be debating whether or not to say something, but he obviously decided against it because he was pulling the bassist closer to him and gently, easily brushing his lips against Lu's.

It was just like their first kiss—and that thought, _their first kiss_ , was enough to cause his heart to clench with something he couldn't name but wasn't altogether unpleasant. The kiss was light, unhurried, just lips and hands sliding across shoulders and down backs and carding through hair. Even after Balthazar stepped closer, his chest and shirt sliding against Lu's bare torso— _oh, right_ , he hadn't put on clothes; he'd gone on his tirade in just his boxers—neither of them seemed willing to deepen the kiss.

But then Balthazar let out a tiny, pleasured sigh and every shred of control Lu had slipped away from him all at once. He traced the seam of Balthazar's lips with his tongue and he felt the singer's heart rate pick up through his shirt, but it wasn't until he'd twisted his fingers through Lu's hair and fisted that he finally spread his lips. He groaned against Lu's mouth and pulled on his hair, and Lu's knees went weak. He managed to get them leaning against the wall right by the doorway (there was no door, just a doorway) before his legs gave out and in doing so, wedged his knee between Balthazar's thighs. To his complete surprise, the older man let out another groan before rutting against his leg, the hardness in his jeans apparent already.

Part of him wanted to make a smart-ass comment, but he knew that would involve moving his mouth from Balthazar's and he was unwilling to do that at the moment, so he settled for filing that tidbit away for later. He pressed closer to the singer, thoroughly enjoying the way his free hand, the one that wasn't tangled in his hair, never stopped moving, touching every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

"Jesus, Luce," Balthazar muttered, pulling away for a half a second to strip off that ridiculous customary V-neck of his that, nevertheless, fit him well. Once he'd pressed himself back to the strawberry blonde, it was only a few moments before Lu started tugging him by the belt loops back down the hall. He paused against the bedroom door, biting gently at Balthazar's lips before dipping his head and locking his mouth on the spot right below the singer's left ear.

He hadn't noticed before, but Rachel had managed to mark him, a faint but visible trail of bruises from his neck halfway down his chest. A wave of disgust washed over him—disgust and distress. "Mine," he murmured before he could stop himself, biting down and sucking at Balthazar's neck.

"Oh, God," the blonde nearly whimpered, tilting his head back to expose more of his neck. "Yours… Oh, God, Luce, _yeah_ …" He moaned obscenely, grinding his hips against Lu's and dragging his nails across Lu's back.

She'd managed to mark him. Lu kept his eyes shut tightly as he scraped his teeth over Balthazar's skin, as though he could somehow undo last night and all the things she'd done to him. He tried to remind himself that this possessiveness toward Balthazar was moronic, that they'd already established this was only sex, that he'd probably find someone else to fuck tomorrow night or the next week, but he couldn't care less. This was how it would go—they'd have their trysts and then Balthazar would go out and fuck someone else and Lu would still end up in his bed at some point, and he couldn't do anything but think, _At least I'll have him at all._

But the way Balthazar was responding, keeping up a steady stream of sound that was so unlike their first encounter (he'd been nearly silent until the end, such a change from the vocal man in front of him now), and clinging to Lu like his life depended on it—it was enough to keep the bassist's thoughts from straying too far for too long. As he reached the spot where his neck met his shoulder and sank his teeth in, he fumbled to unbutton and unzip Balthazar's jeans. One of the singer's hands dropped from his shoulder to help since it appeared Lu was unable to multitask right now, and after a few frantic moments, his jeans dropped in a pool of denim.

Everything started moving faster after that. They stumbled into Balthazar's bedroom, the shorter man pulling Lu along until they fell onto the bed. For a second, they laid there side by side, mouths meeting again and hands running over chests and down sides and across backs. Lu had obviously seen the singer shirtless on a fairly frequent basis, but aside from Wednesday night, he hadn't been able to explore his body like he wanted. (Even that night, they'd both been in such a rush that there hadn't been much time for it.) But now that it was midmorning and he wasn't in as much of a hurry to get laid, he wanted to take his time and memorize the feel of every inch of him.

As though they'd had the same thought, Balthazar shifted to allow Lu to hover above him, one knee between the singer's until he groaned and shifted again until his legs were on either side of Lu's frame. The strawberry blonde turned his attention back to Balthazar's chest, licking a line down his body from his collarbone to his navel, pausing just long enough to bite down on one nipple, and then the other. Balthazar whimpered again, his grip on Lu's hair tightening when the bassist started working his way back up, running his tongue over the toned abdominal muscles that had him drooling, even if he'd never admit it out loud. Lu didn't typically go for men with chiseled muscles (he preferred the softer ones, like Gabe who had a bit of pudge around the middle but was altogether on the slighter side), but Balthazar somehow managed to have a muscular torso while still staying slender. Lu had no idea how it was possible, but it was enough to turn him into mush if he wasn't careful.

But Balthazar was clearly losing control as well, if the increasingly louder and near-pornographic moans coming out of his mouth were any indication. "Oh, God, come on," he breathed, nearly pleaded, tugging sharply on Lu's hair.

"What do you want?" the strawberry blonde whispered, running his lips over his ear as he did so.

"Fuck me, Luce, please. Need you so bloody much…"

Lu's breath caught in his chest. _Oh._ He hadn't expected… He shook his head to clear it. "You want me to top?"

Balthazar yanked him by the hair until they were almost nose-to-nose. "Yes," he hissed. "I bloody want your cock inside me. Or are you backing out now?"

"I was just making sure," Lu breathed, unable to keep the small smile off his face. "Lube's in the drawer?"

"And the condoms," Balthazar reminded him.

He fished out the lubricant and a condom while Balthazar pulled off his boxers. Lu slathered a generous amount of lube over his fingertips before he caught the other man's mouth in a kiss to distract him. As gently as he was able, he slipped his first finger inside him.

Balthazar's eyes flew open. "Oh, God!" he gasped, chest heaving.

"Been awhile?" Lu asked. He couldn't keep the lightly teasing tone out of his voice.

It took the blonde a moment to respond. "That implies it's happened before."

Lu froze. The full meaning of Balthazar's words sank in after a second. "You never…?"

Balthazar fixed him with a look that was somehow both haughty and sarcastic. "If what you're asking is if this is the first time I've let anyone fuck _me_ instead of the other way around, the answer is yes."

"You need to tell me shit like that," Lu said. It was overwhelming, realizing that for a man who'd done pretty much everything, there was one thing he _hadn't_ done yet and he was trusting Lu to make it good.

"You need to hurry the fuck up," Balthazar said venomously.

"Can't. It's gonna hurt. The more I rush this, the less ready you'll be." He nipped lightly at Balthazar's neck. "I don't want to hurt you."

The singer sighed. "Come on, love. Just get on with it. I'll be fine."

Lu knew he was in a hurry, but he wasn't going to rush this. Not when he had this golden opportunity. No, he intended to drag it out nice and slow, something he wished _his_ first male partner had done for him.

But it was nearly torturous, listening to Balthazar's dizzy moans as he gradually adjusted to the feeling of being filled. He was able to keep a slow pace of languid finger-fucking and easy touches by reminding himself that he did _not_ want to hurt him and that rushing this, going too fast, was a sure way to do that. Even after he had three fingers sliding almost easily inside him, spreading his fingers every time he withdrew them, he was still worried about hurting him even though Balthazar was just this side of insensible with pleasure.

"Oh, God, come on, love," Balthazar breathed, heavy-lidded blue eyes peering up at him. His pupils were wide and Lu imagined he could see himself in them. "Come on, love, I want you."

Lu let out a groan and the two of them pushed down his boxers. As quickly as he could, he tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolled it on, and reached for the lube again. He coated his dick with more lubricant before tossing it to the side. "If you want me to stop, just say so. I promise I'll stop," he breathed.

"I _want_ you to shut up and fuck me," Balthazar growled, but under the barked order was something that sounded suspiciously like a plea.

"Alright," Lu murmured. He aligned himself with the singer's stretched-out hole and looked up so he could watch his face. Their eyes locked, Balthazar's hand ran through his hair reassuringly, and slowly, Lu slid inside him.

Oh, he was so glad he'd decided to keep his eyes open for this. Balthazar's face shifted smoothly from trembling but self-assured, to stunned, to nearly enraptured, and his expression once Lu was completely inside him was nothing short of heavenly.

"Oh, Luce, _yes-yes-yes_ , bloody _move_!"

"Am I hurting you?"

"I don't bloody care—it feels better that way."

With a sound that was half a sigh and half a groan, Lu slowly pulled out before snapping his hips back in.

Balthazar cried out, his body arching off the bed. "Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Luce, come on, give it to me!"

He'd been trying to hold back for as long as he could. He'd wanted to make absolutely sure Balthazar was ready, but apparently he was if the tightening fist in his hair and the pleading commands were any indication. Knowing he was Balthazar's first in this experience was a heady thought, but it wasn't over yet and he wanted Balthazar to be completely satisfied by the end of this. But he'd asked for it… Lu swallowed quickly and thrust into him again, ears burning with the sounds of the singer losing himself to this pleasure. He was still hanging onto his last scrap of restraint, dying to fuck into him harder, to feel that scorching heat envelop him completely, but he knew once he did that, he'd be lost. He just wanted Balthazar to enjoy this.

And then the blonde wrapped his legs around Lu's waist, squeezing his sides as he whimpered, "Harder, love, _please_ …" and Lu had lost his all his self control because he hitched Balthazar higher and rocked into him harder, faster, and the singer cried out again, a gasp that could have been Lu's new nickname. He wrapped one hand around Balthazar's cock, unable to suppress a moan as Balthazar suddenly clenched down on him, and he thrust into him even harder, pumping the singer's cock in time to his thrusts.

"Oh, _yes_ , Luce, just like that, feels so good, so bloody good, never bloody knew, come on, love, faster—fuck me, love—harder, yes, _yes_ , Luce, _oh, Luce, yes!_ " Sooner than he imagined possible, Balthazar's grip on his hair sent stars blinking across his vision and the blonde's other hand, twisted in the sheets, was coming up to his shoulders again and he was moaning unintelligibly but it didn't matter because three sloppy thrusts and as many firm pumps of his cock later, Balthazar was coming, half on the bed and clinging to the taller man, and that—how fucking gorgeous he looked as he climaxed—was what finally sent Lu spiraling over the edge as well, pinning the singer to his chest as he came, too.

Balthazar kept his arms wrapped tight around Lu until the aftershocks subsided and their heart rates went back down. Almost reluctantly, he pulled himself off Lu's lap and settled back onto the mattress, their sweat lightly covering his chest. He laughed dizzily. "Oh, Lord, I'm gonna feel that for awhile."

Lu was almost tempted to laugh, too. "Yeah. I don't recommend walking for a few hours."

"I don't think I could." Still grinning, although he winced slightly as he moved, he wiggled his way under the duvet.

"You feeling okay?"

"A little sore, but considering the shag you just gave me, that's hardly surprising. Finish making me breakfast. I'm not getting out of bed for another twelve hours."

This time, Lu actually did laugh. "Yeah, alright." He peeled the condom off, threw it away (pointedly ignoring the other obviously-used condom and wrapper in the trash), slid his boxers back on, and slunk back out to the kitchen. He was certainly glad Balthazar had had the foresight to turn off the eggs.

It would have been a shame to be interrupted by a house fire.


	15. Don't Take Me for Granted

Lu wandered back into the kitchen and deemed Balthazar's eggs a lost cause. Fortunately, over-easy wasn't too difficult for him, so he dumped the old eggs in the trash and started over.

The blonde had also left his cigarettes on the counter (the one he'd lit right before Lu had confronted him had burned out in the ashtray), so as he set about fixing breakfast, he lit another one and used it to keep himself occupied as he worked. He put the kettle on for tea, slid two slices of bread in the toaster, quickly flipped over the eggs, and grinned to himself, exhaling a stream of smoke. He was getting pretty good at the breakfast thing by now, even if it was nearly noon. He'd just finished his grand breakfast-in-bed routine, grabbing a knife and a fork and balancing it on the plate with a mug of tea in his other hand when there was a knock at the door.

 _Shit!_ He wasn't entirely sure who it was, but he suspected it was Ray, and this was definitely not a good time. As quickly as he could, he brought Balthazar his food (the blonde shooting him a puzzled look and asking him who was there) and almost sprinted to the door.

"Hey, Ray," he said, hoping his nerves didn't tinge his voice. Had he been fifteen minutes earlier, he most definitely would have heard Lu and Balthazar going at it.

Raphael shot him a concerned look, his gaze flicking down for a moment before returning to Lu's face. "Um. This is going to sound like a strange question, but where are your pants?"

Lu looked down. _Damn it!_ Again, he'd forgotten he was only in his boxers. At least they were a nicer pair, though. "I was making breakfast," he said, although he didn't really answer the drummer's question.

"Without pants."

"Yeah." Lu shrugged like it was the most natural answer in the world. "I just got up and made breakfast. Do I need pants for that?"

"I see you've progressed to the 'wandering around the house half-naked' stage of your relationship with Balthazar."

"He does it, too. We're lazy."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"Sleeping, I think. Rachel went home about an hour, hour and a half ago. He's exhausted," Lu added, although the words (and even mentioning Rachel) caused him physical pain.

Ray blinked. "He brought her here? Jesus, how was _that_?"

Lu's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"It couldn't have been easy trying to sleep with that racket. That's almost obnoxious," he said with an embarrassed grin.

"Oh. Yeah, I probably got less sleep than they did. I was definitely not happy about that."

Ray gave him an appropriately sympathetic look. "I hear you. So are you going to put on pants, or what? I figure you probably don't want to go to Oak Ridge looking like that, right?"

"Yeah, hang on." Lu hurried back to his room and slithered into the first pair of jeans he could find, shoving his feet into the closest pair of shoes and sliding a clean shirt over his head on his way out. "Alright, let's go," he said, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to Balthazar. _Going to pick up my last paycheck. Be back later._

He patted down his pockets to ensure he had everything—keys, wallet, phone in hand—before following Raphael out the front door and locking it behind him.

* * *

 

Lu had just handed his final paycheck to Eva when his phone rang. His first reaction was to ignore it, but something told him that would be a bad idea, so he sighed (which then led to a yawn) and dug his phone out. He nearly dropped it in surprise. "Crowley?"

"Morning, darling. Listen, I was about to call the rest of your band of misfits, but I wanted to let you know first that Roman wants a meeting with you on Tuesday morning. I don't really care what you have to do, just make sure you're there. I'll be there and if a single one of you even thinks of not showing up, I promise, I will quit."

Lu laughed until he realized Crowley was being serious. "Um, why exactly?"

"To discuss the latest _In Style_ magazine—what do you bloody think? He's got the contract for you and you're probably going into the studio next week, so you lot better make sure you're free for that."

Lu shot a quick look toward Ray, who was straining to hear their manager's side of the conversation. He'd already accepted the cash for Lu's paycheck and was tapping it against the conveyor belt next to Eva's register. "Uh, yeah, sure. I got Ray with me and I can let Balthazar know if a bit, too. When exactly is this, again?"

"Tuesday morning, nine. Just meet me in the lobby of Leviathan at eight-forty-five. And for God's sake, wear something nice. This isn't a show."

Lu rolled his eyes. "I flat-out refuse to wear a suit."

"You don't have to wear a suit. Just don't wear jeans and if one of you shows up in leather, so help me, I will sic Hellhound on you."

The strawberry blonde snorted once. Hellhound was Crowley and Bobby's black pitbull. Bobby had allegedly tried to change his name to Spike or something, but he was already answering to Hellhound by then and wouldn't go by anything else. Despite his name, though, Hellhound was actually a very sweet dog; the most dangerous thing he did was jump on people and lick them. "Yeah, got it. I'll relay the information." He hung up and accepted his money from Ray. "Apparently Roman wants to meet us on Tuesday morning, and I have been informed that we are not allowed to wear denim or leather." He fist-bumped Eva in goodbye, turning toward the door.

Ray made a face as they headed out. "He doesn't expect us to wear suits, does he?"

"Hell, no. He said, 'Wear something nice.'"

The drummer shook his head. "Damn it. A black man in khakis? I'm gonna look so _stupid_."

"Not as stupid as me, I promise." Lu climbed into the passenger's seat of the truck. "I couldn't pull it off if I tried. I still can't believe that shit worked on Cas's manager."

Ray snorted. Putting the truck in gear, he checked his blind spots and pulled out of the parking lot. "Okay, what time on Tuesday morning? Did he say?"

"Yeah. Nine. He wants us there at eight-forty-five, though."

"Wonderful. I guess I need to switch with someone, then."

"Yeah. He also said we're probably going into the studio next week."

"Oh, good Lord." Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We are stupidly unprepared for this shit."

"Yeah, I _know_. But, whatever. They're gonna be paying us, so…" Lu shrugged. "We'll get it." He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. For a moment, he let his thoughts wander.

His band was going into the studio the next week. This mess with Balthazar seemed close to working out, somehow (he still had to figure out how to tell the singer that he _liked_ him but maybe it wasn't a good idea to get involved, especially now), and he'd had a repeat performance with him (he got the feeling that didn't often happen). He had a new job. He had his best friend next to him.

He grinned. So there had been a lot of bad that had been thrown at him at once, but there was good, too. Things weren't so terrible.

* * *

 

Once word had spread to the other three members of Blue Archangel, they decided to have an immediate band practice. None of them worked that day, which was fortunate, so they were able to meet at Ray's house less than an hour after they got the news about the meeting. They rehearsed for hours (Balthazar still visibly sore despite his grin, perching himself on one of the taller speakers) until Anna showed up with a stack of large pizzas for dinner.

By the time Lu and Balthazar got home, it was nearly midnight and they were both exhausted. They slept in their own beds, although it took Lu longer than he wanted to admit to fall asleep.

Sunday and Monday passed in almost the same way: whoever wasn't working met at Ray's house early and practiced until they had to work, and then they'd leave while the rest of them went on until eleven at night or so. It was complicated, rehearsing with one or two people missing at once (when Balthazar was working, Lu dutifully agreed to sing), but they needed it to tighten up their arrangements. Lu and Ray in particular, as the rhythm section, had to make absolutely sure they were in sync. It had never really been a problem before (Lu liked to think it was because they were such good friends that they worked well together), but once in awhile, Lu could get off-beat and he had to stop and start over.

Monday also heralded Lu's first day at Radio Shack with Castiel, which passed by mercifully quickly. It wasn't that Lu didn't like his new job—electronics didn't particularly interest him, though, unless they had some application toward his bass or the band. He managed to retain enough information to let him believe that it hadn't been a total waste, but he was grateful when he finally returned to the band and to something at which he knew he excelled.

He was relieved also for the distraction that the sudden flurry of activity caused. Because he and Balthazar typically tired themselves out during work and practice, the blonde didn't do much more than shoot him a loaded look over a bandmate's shoulder or trail a hand across an exposed bit of skin when no one else was watching. It was momentarily off-putting, but Lu was able to keep his head while they were together during the day and not think (too much) about tumbling into bed with him again.

At night, though, after he'd crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep, his mind raced over memories tangled with fantasies. He tried to derail that train of thought, but he found himself masturbating more than he wanted to admit, biting his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud. He knew the object of his lust was in the next room and probably wouldn't be adverse to another round between the sheets, but he reminded himself that he was trying to just focus on the band right now and that fucking his singer wouldn't help their dynamic. He managed to stay in his own bed, but still.

He was torn. There was an undeniable physical attraction between them, but that couldn't explain his burn of jealousy when Rachel had been wrapped around Balthazar. That wasn't the result of a purely sexual relationship, at least not for him. He was slowly starting to realize that his desire for the blonde stemmed from far more than just sex. He actually liked him, wanted him for more than just a night. It wasn't a pleasant realization, but that explained why he kept putting off the discussion he obviously needed to have with Balthazar.

He needed to tell him they had to stop, they couldn't get involved, they needed to stay away from each other. He didn't _want_ any of that, though. He wanted just a little longer to believe that they could make it work, that maybe Balthazar genuinely liked him, too, that he didn't just see him as an easy lay. Even though it was stupid to pretend, he wanted to cling to that delusion for a little longer.

 _Soon_ , he promised himself. _I'll tell him soon._ Sleeping with him on Saturday morning had been a moment of weakness, but he promised himself it wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. And if Balthazar believed him when he said he didn't want to continue whatever this was or wasn't, so much the better. If it kept the singer from pressing the issue, excellent.

_Soon._

* * *

 

Tuesday morning arrived and Lu and Balthazar fought not to laugh at each other. Lu had never seen the blonde in anything besides jeans or boxers, so seeing him in khaki-colored Dickies work pants was a bit surreal, even with the black button-down shirt with dark gray pinstripes over his white V-neck. Balthazar, for his part, found Lu's obvious discomfort in his khakis to be hysterical. Lu knew he had to get used to them if he was going to keep working at Radio Shack, but it would take awhile.

Ray, Castiel, and Gabriel looked much the same as they congregated in the lobby of Leviathan at twenty minutes to nine. All three of them also wore khakis, but Castiel was the only one who looked remotely comfortable in his attire. Then again, he generally wore that expression of disinterest no matter what he wore, and Lu suspected that was a result of his time in the Army. It was also the cause of the faraway look he sometimes wore, a look Dean called the "thousand-yard stare." It only appeared when he was incredibly annoyed or frustrated, but he was neither right now.

Crowley appeared out of nowhere with Bobby in tow. Their manager immediately looked them over and handed Gabriel a comb, telling him to fix his hair. The guitarist stuck out his tongue but quickly ran the comb through his hair before handing it back. When Crowley saw the wallet chain clipped to one of Balthazar's belt loops, he looked like he wanted to say something, but finally decided against it. "Alright, boys. No sense keeping Roman waiting any longer than necessary."

They followed Crowley and Bobby to a conference room (into an elevator, up six floors, down the hall, fourth door on the left) where Roman was already waiting. He grinned as he stood up to welcome them.

"Morning, boys. So glad you could all make it."

They murmured their greetings before Crowley smoothly cut in. "So, about this contract."

* * *

 

Lu thought to himself that Sam should have been present. There was so much legal jargon being thrown around that the pre-law student probably would have passed out from excitement. It was giving _him_ a headache, though, so after nearly two hours of just sitting there and listening to Crowley, Bobby, and Roman hammering out the details, Lu quickly and quietly excused himself under the pretext of looking for the bathroom.

Once the conference room door shut behind him (Castiel seemed to be the only one paying attention; Gabriel was feigning sleep, Raphael was texting someone under the table, and Balthazar stared unblinkingly out the window), he breathed a little more easily. He looked left and right before locating the bathroom down the hallway and heading toward it. He was just about to head inside when he heard a female voice behind him say incredulously, " _Lu_?"

 _Shit!_ He recognized that voice, too. He turned around. "Eve. What are you doing here?"

She looked as gorgeous as ever, but she didn't affect him like she did a month and a half ago. She was almost distractingly beautiful, but he was able to note it with a cool detachment and actually focus. "I…" She seemed surprised to see him. "I'm visiting someone. I had no idea you'd be here, Lu. What are _you_ doing here?"

"Blue Archangel's getting signed."

She nodded slightly. "I see. Um, that's great. Congratulations." She bit one pink-glossed lip for a moment. "Hey, look, I… wow. Um, you got some mail about three weeks ago and I've been trying to find you since then. What happened to your job at Oak Ridge?"

"Got fired. Already found another job, though. Mail?"

"Right." She reached into her purse. "I kept thinking maybe I'd run into you, so…" She laughed nervously. "That's why I have it on me. Yeah, here," she said, pulling out a slightly-battered envelope and handing it to him.

He furrowed his brow and stared at the return address. It was from his car insurance company. This was either very good or very bad. Unable to resist his curiosity, he slit the envelope open and unfolded the paper inside it.

At the bottom of the sheet was a check for eighteen thousand, six-hundred and eleven dollars and twenty-two cents. He couldn't keep his grin off his face.

"What is it?"

"They finally coughed up for a new car." Almost giddy with excitement, he pocketed the check, letter, and envelope and went to sail back down the hall, completely forgetting about his trip to the bathroom, when Eve spoke up again.

"I miss you."

Lu froze. He hadn't been expecting her to say that at all. "That's… surprising."

"I know. I'm sorry about what happened. I'm sorry about Michael," she added softly. "That was a bitch move on my part." She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I… I'm sorry. And I was hoping… maybe you'd move back in with me."

In the time they'd dated, she'd never once apologized, and she'd certainly never shown this nervous, uneasy side before. It was almost endearing.

But she'd cheated on him, kicked him out, and been all-around bitchy to him, and even though it would be easier to convince Balthazar that they weren't going to sleep with each other again, he had no intention of going back to Eve.

He shook his head. "You know, I lost my job, got kicked out of Ray's house, got my bike stolen, and had— _have_ —to deal with bullshit from a new bandmate, and the last month has _still_ been better than the time I spent with you. Thanks, but no thanks. I like where I'm at right now." _That_ was a lie, but Eve didn't know that.

A flash of anger crossed her face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. "I see. Well, if you change your mind, you have my number." She shot him one last sad look before brushing past him and back down the hall.

Lu remembered he'd intended to use the bathroom while he was out of the conference room and ducked inside. Five minutes, he slipped back into the conference room and took his seat.

If anyone found the smile on his face to be suspicious, they didn't say it.


	16. Writing on the Wall

Crowley's assumption that they would go into the studio the next week ended up being correct. It rendered the whole "finding a new job" thing essentially pointless in Lu's case, but Joshua understood the situation through Castiel. He started scheduling Castiel and Lu on just the weekends (at their request), and Balthazar, Raphael, and Gabriel each had to go to their respective employers and let them know the same thing. Unsurprisingly, Gabriel was a little reluctant to cut his hours. He really did like his job at the Ghirardelli store.

After work on Thursday, Ray brought him to a used car lot near the "Mile of Cars" so he could look for his own vehicle. He was practically giddy to finally be able to get a car and, even though his bike had gotten stolen, he was about to get alternate transportation now.

They prowled through the rows of cars for nearly a half an hour. Lu couldn't find a car that really spoke to him, and that was one thing he wanted for certain. The Aveo that Eve had totaled had been just some car to him, and he secretly thought that he had jinxed himself by buying a car he didn't actually like. He was determined not to make the same mistake this time and wanted to be sure he got a good car this time.

A glint of sunlight off chrome caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a shiny black frame and polished front bumper. Already interested, he ducked past the car in front of him to get a better look.

A grin crossed his face. "Hey, Ray?" he called.

"What?" Raphael picked his way over to where Lu was standing and looked, too. "Oh, my God."

"It's perfect."

"You're fucking with me."

"Hell, no, I'm not."

"That wasn't a question. That was a statement. You _are_ fucking with me."

"It's got amazing storage space."

"Yeah, where _dead people_ have been!"

"It's _my_ car, not yours."

"It's not a car, it's a _hearse_!"

"I have to have it."

"Oh, my God." Raphael rubbed his forehead. "You are insane."

"Look, it's only nine thousand dollars. Can you think of one good reason _not_ to get it that does not involve the words _dead_ , _corpse_ , or _graveyard_?"

His best friend exhaled loudly. "It's—"

"Or _creepy_."

Raphael was silent.

"I bet we could fit a few people back there if we needed an emergency place to crash, too," Lu added with a grin.

The drummer sighed. "You don't even know how well it runs."

"Only one way to find out."

After a look under the hood, a test drive, and a suddenly-feigned disinterest in the hearse, Lu was able to negotiate the price down to seventy-five hundred dollars. He drove away practically giggling.

He needed to take a good long look at his life if he got excited about buying a hearse.

The salesman had assured him that it was a secondhand hearse, and the fifty-thousand miles and peeled-off decals (Sapp & Sons Funeral Home) attested to that as well. He knew he would have been a bit disappointed to discover his hearse hadn't actually ferried around dead people, but it wouldn't have changed his mind.

When Balthazar saw it (Lu had just told him he'd picked a car—he hadn't said what kind), his eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "Good Lord. I didn't…" He stared at the hearse for a full five seconds before doubling over with laughter. "I don't even know why I'm surprised," he finally managed to wheeze out.

"It's got a lot of storage room in the back," Lu started innocently, but Balthazar's laughter redoubled at the comment. "And it seats three," he added, indicating the secret hidden seat in the back.

Balthazar wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "It looks great," he said finally. "Excellent choice. What are you naming it?"

"Naming? Who said anything about naming it? You didn't name your Mustang, did you?"

"I did. She's Lindsey."

" _Lindsey_?"

The singer smirked. "As in Lohan."

"Why—"

"The Mustang is red, Lohan's a redhead, and my favorite drink is a Red-Headed Slut." He shrugged. "Made sense to me."

Lu rolled his eyes. "I shudder to think of that logic applied to _my_ baby."

"Nah, I was thinking of something like Bones."

He looked back at the hearse. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he actually liked that name. "Not bad," he said finally.

"I know." Balthazar dug his own car keys out of his pocket and headed for his own car. "Going to work. I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Bye."

* * *

Balthazar ended up being out of the house the rest of Thursday, most of Friday, and nearly the whole weekend to make up for the work he was about to miss. Lu didn't think it mattered that much since they'd gotten a pretty hefty signing bonus, but an annoying little voice at the back of his head told him that maybe Balthazar was just avoiding him. He hoped it wasn't the case, but since they didn't have a show that weekend, he didn't count on seeing the singer much. Still, he found himself making enough dinner for the two of them and putting the leftovers in the fridge. On Friday night, he woke up to hear the sound of the microwave going and couldn't help smiling to himself before falling back asleep.

By Monday, he still hadn't worked up the nerve to talk about anything of value with him (nor had Balthazar been around enough to allow that conversation to occur) and he started thinking that maybe it was over without either of them having to discuss it. Maybe Balthazar could just sense that letting go was the smart thing to do and was already working on it. He certainly hoped so.

When they went back to Leviathan on Monday (fortunately in jeans, now that they didn't have as many people to impress), they all threw themselves into the task of banging out their first few songs, but no one worked harder than Lu. Balthazar could sense that this opportunity meant a lot to all of them, but the bassist in particular seemed determined to make everything perfect. He stayed late on Monday and came in early on Tuesday, and he seemed almost trancelike while they worked. He didn't seem to hear Crowley's announcement about the studio party on Friday night that they were obligated to attend. He kept playing with the mix and messing with the playbacks. He never had any criticism for anyone's playing (when they did happen to fuck up, he just had them do it again, with an eerie sort of calm that Balthazar found a bit unnerving) but he adjusted the levels until Castiel grabbed him by the back of the shirt and told him to just go outside for a few minutes.

It was the same story on Tuesday night. Everyone but Lu left around five, Balthazar went home and fell asleep around eight, and when he woke up at seven the next morning, Lu had already headed back to the studio.

And Wednesday night.

On Thursday night, Balthazar finally got sick of it and decided to stay awake until Lu got home. He wasn't sure when the strawberry blonde was sleeping, but he knew it wasn't much because he looked more and more tired every day, and cans of Monster kept appearing in the trash in the studio. Balthazar turned on the TV and waited until almost midnight before it finally sank in.

Lu hadn't been coming home. He'd spent every night at the studio this week.

Balthazar didn't know how he missed it. He'd obviously been wearing the same clothes every day and, when he got in the next morning, he looked closely and realized that Lu clearly hadn't shaved in several days.

He clenched his jaw. Well, _this_ was unacceptable. "Luce," he hissed, moving closer to the bassist than was necessary.

"Huh?"

"You haven't been home in five days."

Lu blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about it being bloody _Friday_ and you haven't been home since Monday."

"You're crazy. It's like… Tuesday at the latest." Lu turned his head to look at Raphael, who'd stopped tapping his drumsticks against the table to a beat only he could hear. "Ray, what's today?"

Raphael blinked. "Friday."

"It can't be."

Balthazar finally got a good look at Lu's eyes. They were bloodshot and he just looked exhausted. "Come on," he muttered, grabbing Lu by the arm and bringing him to his feet. To the rest of the band—and Crowley, who had just entered the room—he said, "I'm bringing this arse home. He hasn't left here since Monday."

"Hardcore," Gabriel joked.

"I don't need you to fucking drive me home," Lu snapped suddenly with a venom that surprised them all.

"Luce. When was the last time you slept?" he asked softly, well-aware that all eyes were on them.

The strawberry blonde looked away. "I don't know," he admitted.

"That's what I thought. It's a miracle you're conscious right now. You can't drive right now."

Lu blinked, still not looking back at Balthazar. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Come on."

Crowley looked furious at this development. "What is _wrong_ with you, Pellegrino? You determined to be an idiot or something? Go sleep! _Moron!_ "

Balthazar rolled his eyes and led Lu out of the room, keeping one hand on the small of his back to guide him. He was almost afraid to break contact with him until they'd passed Bones (still with the temporary license plates; the real ones, registered as _BADWOLF_ , hadn't arrived yet) and stopped in front of the Mustang, although Lu didn't seem to be object to being touched. Balthazar unlocked the car and Lu dropped into the front seat before the singer went around to the driver's side and got in. "Try to sleep on the way home."

Lu scoffed and ran his hand over his face. "I'm fuckin' wired. I don't think I _can_ sleep. Who needs sleep, anyway?"

Balthazar sighed and, before he could stop himself, brushed his fingers through Lu's hair. "You do."

As he drove, he kept waiting for Lu's head to tilt back and snoring to fill the car, but the bassist's eyes stayed open. It seemed like he was right—he couldn't sleep.

When they got home, Balthazar practically shoved him into the shower with the idea in mind that the hot water would lull him to sleep, but when Lu emerged twenty minutes later, he didn't look even remotely closer to sleep. "Come on," Balthazar muttered. He marched Lu to his bedroom and forced him under the covers.

For his part, Lu did actually close his eyes and try to fall asleep, but Balthazar could tell he wasn't having it. His mind was exhausted, but his body was running on fumes and energy drinks, and it seemed the bassist had been right: he was simply unable to sleep. Part of him knew he'd just been looking for an excuse, but he heaved a dramatic sigh and crawled into bed next to Lu, pulling him close until they were spooning.

He felt Lu let out a small sigh and press against him. For nearly ten minutes, everything was quiet and Balthazar finally thought, _At least he's finally getting some sleep._ He shifted slightly, his arms still firmly around Lu's waist, and buried his nose in the strawberry blonde's still-drying hair. He swallowed hard, willing away the tightness in his chest, and prayed he could fall asleep soon, too.

And then Lu murmured, "Still can't sleep. Trying, but I can't."

"Luce." The word was barely a whisper, but it raised goose bumps on the back of Lu's neck.

"I like it when you call me that," he confessed softly.

Balthazar swallowed hard. "Really? You never told me that before."

"I know." Lu started running his fingers over Balthazar's arms, lightly tracing the tattoos on his skin. "Maybe I should have, though."

He closed his eyes tightly. It was pure torture, being this close to Lu when all he wanted to do was get them both naked and in the midst of a filthy sexual act. _He needs sleep_ , he told himself, trying to distract himself, but then Lu snuggled back into him, grinding his ass against Balthazar, and the singer let out a faint groan. He ran his lips over the back of Lu's neck before he could stop himself and Lu's grip on his arm tightened, nails digging into his skin.

"Balthazar," he breathed, the sound almost a plea, and the blonde couldn't hold himself back anymore. He turned him, shifting his own weight to straddle the bassist's hips before leaning down to press a bruising kiss to his lips. Lu opened his mouth into the kiss immediately, sliding his hands down Balthazar's sides until he settled them on his hips, cupping his ass.

"I guess we should come up with a way to tire you out," Balthazar breathed, running his fingers over Lu's chest.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Lu deadpanned. The blonde rocked his hips, rutting against Lu, and the bassist moaned softly. "I think you're onto something."

Balthazar pulled back for a moment, just long enough to sweep his shirt over his head and to the side before he kissed Lu again, biting lightly at his lips. They fumbled to push down each other's jeans and boxers, and the singer trailed his lips and teeth down Lu's neck, over his chest, leaving bruises and scrapes. The younger man breathed, "Harder," and tried to sit up to get better contact, but Balthazar put his hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Just lay back. I have this," he whispered. He gently squeezed Lu's sides with his knees and reached into the bedside drawer.

"Oh, my God," Lu whimpered barely a minute later. His eyes had followed Balthazar's movements as he withdrew the lube and slicked his fingers. But then, taking him completely by surprise, the singer reached behind him and started working himself open, his eyes sliding shut. "Fuck, that's hot."

Balthazar gritted his teeth, shifting to try to improve the awkward angle as he slid a second finger inside himself. Lu bit his lip, his eyes never leaving the singer as he reached for the older man's dick to give a few light, teasing strokes.

Finally, though, the singer couldn't wait any longer. He groped for the lubricant again, coating Lu's stiff cock and slowly, mercilessly lowering himself onto him.

Lu's grip on Balthazar's hips tightened immediately and the blonde gasped, half in pain and half in pleasure. He gritted his teeth— _fuck_ , what had he been thinking? He hadn't been ready but now Lu was so deliciously hard inside him and _Jesus_ , it should not have felt this good—and raised himself, very nearly letting Lu's cock slide all the way out. Then he dropped back down, faster this time, shuddering as Lu firmly grazed against his prostate. He moaned loudly, Lu's own desperate gasp echoing in his ears, and reached out to the wall for support as he repeated the action.

As he set up an agonizing rhythm, he tried to figure out why this felt so much better, so different than when they'd fucked on that Saturday morning nearly two weeks before. Maybe it was because the angle was different—and oh, God, he loved riding Lu like this, loved being in full control even though he was the one being penetrated (and _fuck_ , he loved that, too—he hadn't expected the intensity of his orgasm with Lu buried inside him but it was amazing)—or maybe it was because Lu was gazing up at him with that needy, desperate mix of adoration and lust on his face.

Maybe it was because his heart was racing from something he couldn't— _wouldn't_ —name, something he ignored but could never forget. Lu nearly sobbed as Balthazar clenched down on him and breathed, "That's it, love, feel good?"

The strawberry blonde's fingers would surely leave bruises; his nails were already leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin and his eyes were smoldering, threatening to burn holes into his body. He couldn't make himself care, though. He almost hoped for it. He wanted the evidence of their lovemaking all over him. He wanted to be reminded every time he looked in the mirror that they'd shared this beautiful, intense experience. He wanted it to last forever.

"Oh, _Jesus_ , Balthazar," Lu groaned, "you're so fucking tight… so fucking _hot_ …" He raised his hips, meeting the singer's next thrust and driving himself deeper. Balthazar cried out, reaching for his own erection even as he reminded himself, _This is for him. This is for him, not me._

But they were both moving so fast now, their rhythm becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, and he knew neither of them would last much longer. Lu's eyes were finally sliding shut and his grip on Balthazar's hips was slackening and he was panting, giving small shallow thrusts into him but somehow managing to slide across his sweet spot every time. Fireworks sparked across Balthazar's vision and he fought to stay controlled, but he felt himself weakening, felt his restraint and resistance crumbling. He was desperate to just brace himself against the wall his bed was pressed against and just ride Lu until he got off and melted into a puddle. Lu's fingers went from his hips to his chest, sliding over his skin, and somehow that was what sent him over the edge, leaning over the bassist and coming with a barely-muffled cry. "Jesus, Luce," he gasped, trembling as waves of pleasure wracked his body and he leaned back, pumping his dick as he came.

With a debauched moan, Lu followed seconds later, eyes shut tightly. He dug his fingers back into Balthazar's hips and came hard, spilling over and into him, and suddenly Balthazar realized what was different: they hadn't used a condom this time. Panic welled up in him but underneath it was a surprising amount of acceptance. He was fairly sure Lu was clean, and he was too, so if they both were…

He reached for the tissues on his nightstand and wiped at the come that had splattered across the younger man's torso before collapsed against Lu's chest and brushed a few damp strands of hair from his face. As casually as he could, he asked, "Luce? You're clean, right?"

The bassist's eyes fluttered open briefly before he closed them again and snuggled into Balthazar's side. "Yeah. Disease-free since '87," he deadpanned.

Balthazar chuckled softly. "Alright. Good." He kissed Lu's temple and shifted slightly so they were both comfortable. "I'm setting my alarm for six-thirty. That should leave us enough time to get to the hotel."

Lu groaned. "I forgot about that. We still have to go to that label party?"

"Yes, love."

At the nickname, the corner of Lu's mouth quirked up. "Hang on." He slid out of bed and disappeared into the hallway and into his own room for a minute. When he came back, he had the bike chain and lock in his hand, and a thin silver chain with a key hanging from it in his other hand. He crawled back into bed and said, "Look. I know this is… not ideal. But you… I like you a lot and I'm pretty sure you like me. I _know_ this is so fucking stupid," he added, and he was speaking faster now, as if determined to get it all out before his nerve failed him. "I mean, we work together and this has the potential to be a train wreck, but—"

"It's okay," Balthazar said, tilting Lu's head to better reach his mouth. "If you want me, I'm yours."

A sleepy but happy smile flitted across Lu's face. Wordlessly, he looped the remnant of the bike chain around Balthazar's neck and locked it.

It was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. It had enough slack to not present a choking hazard, but it was tight enough so he couldn't slip it over his head. Lu put the other chain around his neck, the one with the key. "If you want me to unlock it, let me know," he murmured, settling in to sleep.

Balthazar's chest tightened again. He knew what he really meant. _If you want me to let you go, just ask._

He wrapped one arm around Lu and pulled him close, relieved to hear the bassist's breathing was already slowing. "I've got you," he whispered, kissing the side of his neck.

Five minutes later, they were both fast asleep.


	17. Making Believe

Apparently, nine and a half hours wasn't enough to undo the severe fuckery the last week had wreaked on Lu's sleep cycle, because when Balthazar's alarm went off at six-thirty, the strawberry blonde just groaned and rolled over. "Don't make me get up," he grumbled.

"We have to." He had to admit, he was tempted to just hit the snooze button and spend the whole weekend just lying there with Lu in his arms, but Crowley would no doubt be pissed. He could be a demon when he was angry and Balthazar didn't care enough to infuriate him right now. "Come on, we just have to get through the next few hours and then you can sleep until Monday."

Lu made a pleased humming sound before rolling over. His eyes locked right on the lock around Balthazar's neck. "Oh. I thought I dreamed that." He looked up at the singer. "Things got kind of surreal at the end there."

"Oh." Balthazar's heart gave an unpleasant lurch but he fought to keep his face neutral. "Did you want to take it off?"

Lu shook his head and reluctantly climbed out of bed. His stomach gave a loud rumble and Balthazar felt a grin slip across his face.

"There will be food there," he said teasingly.

The bassist shot him a brief glare before yawning abruptly. "Alright, I'm gonna get changed then." He reached for his jeans and boxers, which had been tossed to the side. He yawned again. "What time did you want to leave?"

"By seven-fifteen. If you want to shower, do it now." Balthazar sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was starting to curl around his ears—part of him wanted to cut it, but most of him felt far too lazy for it. "I definitely need a shower."

He saw Lu grin to himself as he slunk out of the bedroom and to his own.

* * *

Lu waited in the kitchen for Balthazar to finish getting dressed. He took a swig of a now-half-empty bottle of Dr Pepper and glanced in the mirror again.

He didn't like suits, but that was mostly because he didn't like wearing neckties. Without a tie, suits weren't completely terrible. This one was entirely black and he wore a black dress shirt underneath it with a pair of black Converse. He didn't think he looked half-bad, actually.

There was a jingling of car keys and Lu looked up.

"Ready?" Balthazar asked.

Lu's throat went dry, but he nodded. Balthazar had deemed leather pants that looked like they'd been spray-painted on his body to be appropriate attire, and even though his shirt was a button-down and, therefore, not a V-neck, he'd kept the top four buttons undone to mimic the effect. The lock of the bike chain rested right underneath the hollow of his throat and all Lu could think of was how absolutely fuckable he looked right then.

He followed the singer out of the house and locked the front door behind them, sliding into the passenger's seat of Lindsey as Balthazar got into the driver's seat. "You can sleep on the way there, if you want to," the blonde added.

Lu nodded again. "I planned on it." He notched the seat back to its full reclined position and closed his eyes. Unseen, Balthazar shot him a quick, fond smile before starting up the car and heading to the hotel.

By the time they arrived at Elysian Fields, Lu had fallen into a rather heavy doze. Balthazar managed to poke him awake, but the strawberry blonde was annoyed by being woken up for the second time before he was good and ready, so he glowered at everyone that crossed his path. As Balthazar wandered away to let Crowley know they'd arrived, Raphael appeared.

"Damn, you okay there?" he asked, visibly trying not to laugh. He was dressed more casually than Lu in black jeans and a ripped Misfits shirt with his leather vest (the one with _SIZZLER_ stitched across the shoulders on the back), and Lu wondered what memo he'd missed when he'd shown up wearing the better part of a suit and everyone else was dressed in show attire.

"I'm fucking exhausted, what do you think?" Lu snapped. He glanced around—there was Anna chatting by the DJ, and near the pool were Gabriel and Sam, and not too far from them were Castiel and Dean. Every single one of them was dressed far more casually than he was. Even Anna's dress was haphazardly torn just above the knee and her black studded jacket seemed purposely big on her. Then Lu realized that was because it was Raphael's. "Did everyone bring a date?"

Raphael shrugged. "Crowley said we should. Looks like you and Bizarre were the only ones who didn't."

Lu rolled his eyes. "I feel ridiculous," he said, indicating his suit.

The drummer smirked. "That's what happens when you go four and a half days without sleep for the Hell of it."

The strawberry blonde flipped him off just as Crowley came over with Balthazar right behind him. "You look like Hell," their manager said.

Lu very nearly threw his hands up in the air and turned around, but over Crowley's shoulder, Balthazar was giving him a look that might as well have been _Calm down_ and, surprisingly, it worked. Instead, he said icily, "I don't know why you expected anything different."

"Well, take a minute and pull yourself together. There's some people from the press here looking to talk to you boys and some of the executives want to meet you."

All the snark drained from Lu's body. "Wait, what?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Yeah. Believe it or not, the news of a local punk band getting signed to such a major label has made quite the impact."

Lu swallowed hard as their manager turned around and waved for Castiel and Gabriel to join them. He couldn't pinpoint the cause of his sudden nervousness, but he assumed that lack of sleep had made him irrational. Normally, he was okay with dealing with fans.

Then again, they weren't about to meet _fans_ , they were about to meet people who would tear them apart the first chance they got if the tide turned against them.

* * *

"You okay there?" Balthazar asked softly twenty minutes later.

Crowley had been right again. Four different columnists for various music magazines had approached them and asked questions. Three had gotten group photos of the band. Balthazar had stayed right by Lu's right side, and Raphael was on his left. He was relieved to have both of them with him and Castiel and Gabriel on Balthazar's other side, but he was getting too tired to deal with all of it.

"Just peachy," he hissed back.

The most stressful part of the night so far came later, though. A fifth columnist pulled Balthazar aside and started grilling him about being the newest member of the band and what it was like to work with four guys who'd known each other for up to eleven years already. But the bottom nearly dropped out of his stomach when he heard the reporter say, "Nice chain, by the way. Very _Sid & Nancy_."

"Thanks," Balthazar answered.

"Just a statement, or does it mean anything?"

Lu didn't know if he wanted to flee or inch closer. His heart was racing and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was panic over Balthazar's response. They had barely talked about _them_ and he didn't know how they'd classify their relationship. Were they committed? Friends with benefits? Oh, Jesus, what if they didn't want the same thing?

_This was a mistake. We shouldn't have done this._ It would have been better for both of them, better for the _band_ , if Lu had been able to keep it in his pants, to resist Balthazar better. And, yeah, the blonde wasn't exactly blameless in this situation, but Lu should have been able to tell him they couldn't get involved.

How fucked-up _was_ he, when he avoided problems until they blew up in his face and there was nothing he could do? No matter what, someone was coming out of this hurt and it was his fault. He had been so desperate for anyone that he latched onto the smallest scrap of affection like it was a declaration of devotion, and now he'd gotten so deep, fucked things up so badly that he'd somehow managed to do exactly what he'd been trying not to do.

"No, it's not just a statement."

"So what's it mean?"

"I'd rather not discuss it right now," Balthazar said quietly but firmly.

Lu unconsciously ran a finger over the chain around his own neck. After a moment, he slipped it off and into his pocket before heading right for the bar.

"What happened to you?" another voice asked.

Lu glanced to his left. Sam Winchester was standing there, a drink in hand. "Gabe didn't tell you? I had a psychotic breakdown and didn't leave the studio all week." Crowley's words to the executives earlier in the night floated through his head. _"Pellegrino here is a little worker bee. He's been making sure the tracks sound perfect. He was at Leviathan all week."_

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No, he didn't mention that. Just that you'd had a rough few days."

"That's putting it mildly." He ordered a Jack and Coke and turned back to Sam. "Not counting today, I think I got three hours of sleep this whole week. Balthazar—" His throat constricted for a second and he swallowed to clear it. "He brought me home and basically forced me to sleep."

"Yeah, that's a bit crazy. Why were you there all week?"

Lu sighed as his drink appeared next to his hand. Grateful for the open bar, he downed a huge gulp. He needed to be way more drunk to deal with this. "I really don't even know. I guess I was pursuing the unattainable ideal." He shrugged.

"Well, they _are_ your songs, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

"I guess it makes sense that you'd be a bit… possessive of them, I guess. Making them want to sound as good as possible."

He had to admit that Sam had a point. "You're probably right." He grabbed Sam's wrist to check his watch and sighed. "Hopefully Crowley says we can get out of here soon."

Sam grinned sheepishly. "Don't want to be here?"

"I just want to sleep some more. Did you miss the part where I got maybe three hours of sleep over the course of four and a half days?" He took another swig of his drink. "Besides, this party isn't really my thing. I know Gabe's always excited to be around people, but…"

"Don't like publicity?"

"It's not that. I like publicity. It's great. I just don't like being under the microscope of four dozen people looking for the latest scoop."

"Seems to make sense." Sam looked around nervously, and Lu got the feeling the conversation was getting a bit awkward. He turned back to the bar and finished his drink, allowing the other man to make a graceful getaway. In his peripherals, he saw Sam sidle away, and he ordered another drink.

"Good thing I decided not to drink tonight," Balthazar murmured, suddenly appearing next to him.

"Yeah. Sorry," he added quietly.

"I'm assuming you heard what that bloke asked?"

"Yeah."

Balthazar gave a small nod. "I guess we should probably talk about that, then."

Lu swallowed. "Yeah."

The older man's shoulders seemed to slump and Lu immediately felt bad. His one-word answers probably weren't the best to hear. He didn't blame Balthazar for being disappointed. It seemed that all he was good for was playing bass and disappointing people.

"I'm probably not going to like where that conversation will go, am I?"

Lu ran his fingers through his hair. "I… I don't know." Honestly, it wouldn't be so bad to be with him if there was a guarantee one of them wouldn't break the other's heart. It might even be nice. But he had no idea what Raphael would think, or Castiel, or Gabriel. Or Crowley, or anyone else, for that matter. But he did know that if Balthazar hurt him, he wouldn't be able to forgive him and it would suck to work with him.

And what if he hurt Balthazar? They wouldn't be able to look at each other. Their bandmates might feel like they had to pick sides. It could rip the band apart.

"This isn't the place, though," Lu said finally. "Too many ears."

Balthazar nodded. "We'll talk tomorrow. After you've gotten a little more sleep."

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He finished off his second drink. "Yeah, we'll talk then. Speaking of which, when are we allowed to leave?"

The corner of Balthazar's mouth twitched up in an almost-reluctant grin. "I'll go ask, love. Maybe he'll take pity on you and let us go."

Lu registered the use of the endearment _love_ and, no matter how much he didn't want to jeopardize his band, couldn't help thinking that he liked it when Balthazar called him that, too.

Maybe this could work. Maybe, against all odds, they could actually be together throughout the duration of the band and make their relationship work and not be a horrendous mistake.

He downed a glass of water, turning around to see Crowley nodding and Balthazar smiling and turning back toward him.

_I guess we can go home, then._ He slid off his seat and went to meet him. The sooner he got home and got to sleep, the better.


	18. Like an Outlaw (For You)

Lu slept from eleven-thirty on Friday night until three the next afternoon. Balthazar really couldn't blame him for the exhaustion, and he liked Lu snoring softly in his arms. It was soothing and helped him fall asleep, too.

He never said it out loud, but he'd slept better than he could remember on the Wednesday night they first had sex.

It was also a good thing that Lu slept like a rock. Balthazar had had to slip out of bed several times to eat while the bassist was still asleep and, as far as he knew, Lu never woke up. Balthazar supposed that made sense, though. He'd missed a lot of sleep over the past week.

When Lu finally did wake up, though, Balthazar was asleep. Lu stretched and rolled over, getting a good look at him.

Balthazar definitely looked older than his twenty-eight years when he was awake, but that didn't hold true when he was asleep. He looked younger, more relaxed. It was almost impossible to believe he was a stage-dominating sex god.

Lu reached out and traced his fingers over Balthazar's temple, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. Almost immediately, Balthazar's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," he said softly. "You going to be conscious for awhile?"

Lu half-shrugged, his right shoulder pinned to the bed. "Probably. I'm more hungry than tired right now."

Balthazar nodded. "Alright. I'll make some lunch. And then we need to talk."

Lu sighed. He knew this was going to happen. He knew _what_ was going to happen. He just wasn't sure how to say it.

But they had to talk. They couldn't put it off forever.

* * *

"So, talk," Balthazar said twenty minutes later as he set about making sandwiches. The chain was still around his neck, although Lu shouldn't have been surprised about that. There was no way he could have gotten it off without getting the key from Lu's pocket. He felt a twinge of guilt when he remembered that.

"I… I'm not sure this is a good idea," Lu said quietly. "You and me, I mean."

Balthazar's shoulders slumped again, and Lu wished he could see his eyes, but the singer was facing away from him. Before he could even come up with something comforting to say, the blonde was asking, "Why do you think that?"

He swallowed. "I just keep thinking, 'What happens if this ends badly?' One of us gets hurt and how are we supposed to be able to work together, have a functioning unit? I read all these stories about great bands who have great music, but the band members hate each other. I don't want that for us. I've… I've worked too hard for this to just…" Lu sighed as the blonde finished the sandwiches and turned back toward him. "If I hurt you, are you really going to be comfortable working with me?"

"Honestly?" Balthazar slid one plate across the table toward Lu. "I've had awkward exes before. But let me ask you this. If the band wasn't an issue—if the band didn't exist—would we be having this conversation?"

Lu took a bite of his sandwich—turkey and cheese; he had to admit that it was pretty good—and settled for, "Probably not, since we wouldn't have met."

"Don't be a smart-arse," Balthazar said, but when Lu looked up, the blonde had a smile on his face.

Lu half-smiled back and then sighed. "No. If we didn't have the band, I wouldn't… I wouldn't even have to think about it."

"Think about what?"

"Being with you."

"Luce. Are you saying that, if the band didn't exist, you'd want to be with me?"

"I _want_ to be with you. That's not the point. The point is, what do we do if we break up and things get awkward?"

"That's always a risk in relationships. But that's why we need to be able to talk about this. If anything, it's even more important for us."

Lu's heart rate picked up as he listened. Balthazar was giving him an almost pleading look.

"I just don't think that this—you and me—should be affected by the band. I care about you and I'm fairly sure you care about me. So what difference does it make?"

He was quiet for a minute. His head was still buzzing in protest, but there was no actual argument he could think of.

"We've been able to work together this far. I know it hasn't been easy, but you haven't blown up onstage. Whatever drama we've had so far has been contained," Balthazar added.

"So you're saying, if we do happen to break up, you'll be able to keep working with me?"

"If we talk, yes. Listen, why do people break up?"

"Differences."

"So we talk. If I'm doing something you don't like, you have to tell me. And vice versa. And people grow apart, too. If that starts happening, if either of us starts feeling like it could start happening, we have to communicate that. As soon as it becomes an issue, we need to talk about it. We can't wait until it's ready to tear us apart."

Lu nodded slowly, a tiny bubble of what could have been hope swelling in his chest. Balthazar was fighting this. He didn't want Lu to let go so easily. "Cheating, too. My last relationship ended because Eve was cheating on me."

Balthazar gave him a small grin. "I won't cheat if you won't."

The bassist felt himself start to smile, too. "Deal."

"And if we fight… well, you and Ray have fought before, right?"

Lu nodded, thinking back to the last major fight they had. Surprisingly, it had been Raphael being an idiot and ditching him at a bar. That by itself wouldn't have pissed him off, but he'd left because of a girl. They'd ended up having a shouting match and didn't talk to each other for a week until Raphael realized what he'd done had been a dick move and apologized. Neither of them had mentioned it since then.

And maybe Balthazar was right. After all, things with him and Gabriel had gotten a little awkward for a short time, but they got over it and they were better than ever now. He thought about their affair sometimes, but he was able to interact with him normally—or as normally as one _could_ interact with Gabriel.

"I think we can handle this. It's not like it's much different than our relationship right now anyway," the blonde pointed out.

"Except not sleeping with random people at shows."

Balthazar flinched slightly, but when he opened his eyes again, he was smiling. "You get one more. After that, I hit you."

Lu snorted with laughter. He took another bite of his sandwich and, after a moment, said, "Not that this is going to change anything, but… how many people have you slept with, anyway?"

The singer raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want that answer?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Balthazar chuckled. "Alright. Well, the conservative estimate—"

" _Estimate_? You don't actually know?"

He shrugged. "Some of it was a blur. I wasn't always such a paradigm of morality."

Lu nearly dissolved into laughter.

"Ouch," Balthazar joked. "Anyway, the conservative estimate is the low five-hundreds."

_That_ shut him up. "The low five-hundreds?"

"As I said. That's the conservative estimate. I'm counting three or four between sixteen and eighteen and after that…" He shrugged. "As I said, conservatively, I'm guessing one a week for the last ten years. I know there were times when I had sex with two or three different people a week, and there was one year when I was actually in a serious relationship, but after I got out of that one… I made up for lost time."

"Wow. I mean… _wow_."

Balthazar shrugged again.

"How did you not get any STDs?"

The blonde grinned. "I'm of the firm belief that I personally kept the Trojan company in business."

Lu laughed.

"What about you?"

"Um… like fourteen. And I guess I should mention this now, not that I ever think it'll come up, but one of them was Gabe."

"You slept with Gabriel?"

"Yeah. About three years ago, before he met Sam and I met Eve. Does… does that bother you?" The singer had seemed stunned by the revelation and Lu didn't know if it was just the abruptness of the confession or because he didn't like it.

"No, but I didn't really expect that. From either of you, I guess."

"It was just the one time. And like I said, it was a long time ago."

"Does anyone else know?"

"You mean Ray or Cas?"

Balthazar nodded.

"Unless Gabe told them, no. Just… the three of us now, I guess." Lu swallowed slightly. "But while we're talking about that, I wanted to… to ask that we hold off on telling them about us. Just for a little while, until we figure out where we are. I just don't want them giving us funny looks or anything while we're still getting used to this."

"But we _will_ tell them, right? Eventually? I mean, this is kind of something they should know."

"Yeah." Lu gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, eventually. Just… not right away."

"Alright, love. I can handle that if you can."

Later, when Lu slipped the chain with the key back around his neck, Balthazar didn't say anything, but the bassist saw him smile to himself.

* * *

The rest of the weekend was spent alternating between sleeping and watching Netflix. Part of Lu thought it was odd how quickly they'd assimilated into this almost sweet routine when, just a few weeks before, they'd practically been at each other's throats, but most of him was just happy to have Balthazar with him while they just relaxed. And if he fell asleep on top of the singer in the middle of a _Torchwood_ marathon, Balthazar didn't complain.

When Monday finally rolled around, Lu felt almost normal. He was actually relieved to get back to the studio, if only to make sure no one had fucked with Bones (they hadn't, but he'd remembered late on Saturday that his car was still in the parking lot and he wanted to assuage his worries). The rest of the band was happy to see him, too.

"You feeling better?" Raphael asked the moment Lu and Balthazar walked in. Gabriel and Castiel looked up in interest.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Now go sit in the corner," Gabriel said, practically shoving Lu onto the couch.

Lu allowed himself to fade into the background that day. Whenever he was asked his opinion on something, he gave it, but he didn't speak up on his own. He was content to let the music get recorded without his micromanagement (he still couldn't pinpoint what had triggered his obsession the week before, but he didn't feel it right now) and, instead, pulled out his notebook and a pen and started writing again.

It had been a few weeks since he'd even written anything and he'd intended to start at least getting some ideas down days ago, but last week basically hadn't existed for him and he wanted the weekend to last as long as possible. He didn't stop writing even after Balthazar came over and sat down next to him, so close their knees touched. Maybe it was closer than necessary, closer than they would have sat last week, but no one else noticed.

Lu didn't even try to shield his notebook like he usually did, if only because his handwriting was so atrocious that most people couldn't read it anyway. The only reason Raphael could decipher it was because he'd been reading it for eleven years.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Balthazar asked in an undertone so the others didn't hear.

"Yeah. I'm not gonna flip out or anything. I'm cool," Lu insisted. He glanced up to check on the band. Raphael was sitting next to the sound board and both Gabriel and Castiel were in the soundproofed room, rocking out. The executive decision had been made that, even though there would be some bleed-over on the separate tracks, they fed off each other's energy and they should record together. The song of the day was "Caged and Beaten," and the guitarists had already been at the three-minute song for almost an hour. Their fingers would probably start bleeding soon. But Raphael was completely absorbed and Crowley was nowhere to be found; no one was paying attention to the singer and the bassist in the corner.

"You should still get out of this room for a few minutes. Come on, let's take a smoke break."

Lu thought about it for a half a second before he closed up his notebook and wedged it between his cushion and the arm of the sofa.

"Raph, we're gonna pop outside and burn one," Balthazar announced, standing up.

The drummer didn't even look at them. He just threw a quick thumbs-up over his shoulder, so Lu stood up and followed Balthazar out, unable to resist looking at the blonde's ass as they went. Even wrapped in a relatively loose layer of denim (as opposed to skintight through the knee), it was still impressive, and he had to smile.

Balthazar rubbed the back of his neck when the door closed behind them, his fingers, nails painted black today, trailing over the chain around his neck. No one in the band had commented on it yet, nor had any of the hickeys from Friday night (not that there were many) been referenced despite the light-gray V-neck he wore. It actually looked incredibly soft and Lu wanted to bury his face in Balthazar's shoulder, but he didn't. Instead, he went toward the elevator until Balthazar grabbed his wrist. "This way," the singer murmured, steering him in the other direction.

"We taking the stairs?"

Balthazar shot him a quick leer over his shoulder. "Not exactly."

Comprehension dawned on Lu. "We're not actually heading out to smoke, are we?"

"I'm cutting back," Balthazar said, and Lu couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Currently, he probably wasn't, and as Balthazar released his wrist, he followed him. They made it about halfway down the hallway before the singer paused in front of a plain-looking door and looked left and right to make sure they were alone. Then he twisted the knob, pushed the door open, and went right inside. Unsure of what to expect, Lu followed and was immediately submerged in darkness as Balthazar nudged the door closed behind him.

"Where are we?" the strawberry blonde asked, looking around and completely unable to see.

"Storage closet, I think," Balthazar murmured, and then his arms were sliding around Lu's waist and pulling him close.

"Oh, classy," Lu joked, easily sinking into the singer's arms. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, so when he attempted to kiss him, his lips bumped into Balthazar's nose.

The singer chuckled, kissing Lu's chin and slowly working his way to his mouth. "It's not so bad," he said softly. He moved his lips across Lu's cheek, to his ear, and down his neck. A shiver of excitement went through Lu and he let out a quiet moan.

"Is this a good idea?" he panted, well-aware his breathing was already getting heavy and there was the barest hint of a Southern lilt to his words.

"Probably not." Balthazar nibbled at the underside of Lu's jaw, running his fingertips under the waistband of the bassist's jeans to lightly tease at the skin at his hips. "Who cares?"

Lu caught the sides of Balthazar's face and brought their mouths back together with a dirty scrape of teeth over lips. "What are the odds we'll get caught, right?" he breathed between kisses.

Balthazar ran his hands under Lu's shirt and back down, fingers trailing down his spine and to his belt loops to pin them together. "I can't figure out probabilities and statistics on my best day, let alone right now," he murmured.

A soft laugh escaped from Lu before he decided that they were both talking far too much right now. He deepened the kiss and smiled to himself as one of Balthazar's hands found its way into his hair, combing through it, while his other hand rested on his hip. They were just easing into a comfortable rhythm with just enough heat to keep him interested when Balthazar's grip on his hair tightened and he yanked, although not quite as hard as Lu would have liked. He groaned softly, his head falling back, and Balthazar's mouth fixed on his neck again.

He absolutely loved having his hair pulled, almost as much as he loved the feel of the bike lock pressing against his chest as Balthazar bit down on a point near his shoulder. His body flooded with pleasure at the sharp contrast between the singer's mouth, rough against his skin, and the gentle hand tracing patterns along his side. He didn't even realize they'd moved until his head tipped back further and smacked into the wall.

"Ow," he nearly giggled, causing Balthazar to start laughing against his shoulder.

He recovered quickly, though, unbuttoning Lu's jeans and sliding a hand inside. The playful air evaporated almost immediately and Lu closed his eyes, digging his fingers into Balthazar's shoulders and letting out a quiet moan. He gritted his teeth and rutted against his hand, suddenly acutely aware of the single layer of cotton between his dick and Balthazar's fingers. And then he started fumbling with Balthazar's jeans and they were pushing down each other's pants. It didn't even register that they were in a storage closet at Leviathan Records until, from far away, he heard a door slam.

And then he heard muffled voices from outside. He clapped his hand over Balthazar's mouth and they both froze to listen.

"They went out to smoke?" That voice sounded vaguely Scottish. _Crowley._

A slow, gravel-rough voice answered, "That's what Raphael said." That would be Castiel.

"I just checked out there. They weren't there." Crowley and Castiel were getting closer, and Lu and Balthazar still had a hand down each other's pants. Panic flooded through the bassist and it must have registered because Balthazar didn't say anything; he simply pulled back and pulled his pants back up as Lu did the same.

"They could be by their cars."

"We'd be able to see them from the windows."

"What if they were _in_ one of their cars?"

"Then odds are, I wouldn't want to walk in on that." Crowley and Castiel had passed by them and their voices were growing fainter. Lu let out a relieved sigh.

"We should probably get back, yeah?" Balthazar asked. Lu's eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now and he could see the singer's grin had returned.

"Yeah, I think so."

"We'll continue this later, though," he added after pressing a quick kiss to Lu's lips. He led the bassist to the door, poked his head out to make sure Crowley and Castiel were really gone, and then stepped out.

When they got back to their studio, Gabriel was out of the soundproofed room and Raphael was still at the board, but Castiel was gone. "Hey, guys," Lu said, trying to sound casual, as though five minutes before, they hadn't been about to fuck each other's brains out.

"Balthy, we need you in there," Raphael said, sparing them half a glance. "We just sent Crowley and Castiel out to find you guys."

"We're here now." Balthazar shrugged. "We didn't see them, though. What song are we on?"

"Still 'Caged and Beaten.' Get in there so I can queue up the playback."

As Lu sat back down on the couch and Balthazar slunk into the soundproofed room, the strawberry blonde shifted in his seat. His jeans felt three sizes too tight and he definitely did not like getting teased into this level of sexual frustration only to be interrupted, but maybe it was for the best. If Crowley and Castiel had happened to walk in on them, it could have been terrible.

Besides, now he had something to look forward to when they finally got home.


	19. Lost Child

On Tuesday, it occurred to Lu that he'd been on the schedule to work that weekend. He wasn't quite sure what had happened—or why Joshua (or anyone else, for that matter) hadn't bothered to call him to check on him. And then he realized that Balthazar had spent the whole weekend at home, as well. He started wondering what exactly had transpired during his extended nap.

"I called in," Balthazar said, running his fingers through Lu's hair for a moment. He peered into the back of the hearse (Lu had insisted on driving into the studio that day) and grinned, shaking his head. "Told them I had a rough week. They understood."

"Well, that's good. You're not in trouble, then?"

"Not at all, love."

"Good." He snuck a quick glance at Balthazar. "Did anyone from Radio Shack call while I was unconscious?"

Balthazar shook his head. "No, but I spoke to Castiel on Friday and he said he'd take care of it, so I assume he did."

"Huh. Yeah, I'll ask him about it."

"You did need the rest, though."

"Yeah, I know. That's… last week was kind of crazy, wasn't it?"

Balthazar half-smiled. "That's one word for it. I didn't even realize you weren't coming home until Thursday night. I'm sorry for that."

"We all had a rough week. It's not your fault. I mean, it's a nice thought, but you don't have to take care of me or anything. I just… lost my head for awhile."

"No one could accuse you of being the most rational person."

Lu got the impression that he should have been offended, but he knew what Balthazar said was true. He _could_ get irrational and he was grateful he had a group of friends who actually put up with it. "Yeah, I guess so." It didn't help that they'd driven to the studio separately. He'd wanted to get in early on Monday and took off, leaving Balthazar to drive himself. If they'd shown up in the same car, it would have been impossible to hide the fact that he'd been at the studio all week.

But he was determined to put it out of his mind. It was in the past now; there was no use dwelling on it. He couldn't change what had already happened, but hopefully they could keep it from happening again.

When they got into the studio, Castiel and Gabriel were there, but Raphael had yet to show up. This was a problem, since the first item on their list that day was laying down the drum track to "Laid to Waste." However, this left Lu with time to pull Castiel aside and talk to him.

"Hey, Cas, what happened this weekend?"

"What do you mean?"

"With Radio Shack. I was supposed to work this week, wasn't I?"

"You were. I told Joshua the truth, though. You spent all week here and probably wouldn't feel up to coming in. He was alright with that, but I don't think he'll put you on the schedule for next week. In fact, I believe he said he wouldn't put you on the schedule until we were finished here."

Lu blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Yes. He said something like you can have a job there when you need one, but he needs someone who's a little more… reliable," Castiel said finally.

Lu furrowed his brows. "Oh. Um, okay. I guess I can see where he's coming from."

"I'm sorry," Castiel added.

"It's fine. I mean, you explained it to him, so… I guess I can't be that upset. He has a point, though."

"This is our full-time job now. Everything else is secondary," Castiel said.

"Yeah. I know." He attempted a smile. "But he said he'd give me another chance, right?"

"The implication was, after the record is complete, he'll be happy to employ you."

"Better than flat-out fired, right?"

Castiel nodded. "He understands that this is a time of upheaval for us all."

"Understatement of the fucking decade," Lu muttered.

Raphael finally showed up fifteen minutes later with Starbucks in hand. He didn't even have the decency to look sheepish. He simply finished off his drink, tossed it in the trash, and sailed into the soundproofed room. Without a word, he began setting up his drum kit and preparing for sound check, while Lu was nearly overcome by a case of the giggles.

He knew there was a reason they were friends.

By the end of the day, the entire rhythm portion and about half of the guitar part of the song was complete. Lu had to admit that it was a fairly productive day, even with Crowley breathing down their necks and Bobby coming in to check on their progress. He was half-convinced that even Roman would stop by and that prospect terrified him, although he wasn't sure why. Still, it was stressful to work even with just Crowley in the room, and Raphael echoed everyone's sentiments when he announced that he needed a drink.

Castiel disappeared around four when Dean showed up and waved at them all. Gabriel left a short time after him, claiming he had a date with Sam that night, and Crowley told the rest of them to leave, with a pointed look at Lu. Apparently, no one was going to be able to stay the night even if they tried now. After last week's incident, Crowley was keeping a tighter leash on them all.

As soon as they got outside, Raphael lit up a cigarette. "Well, that was heaps of fun," he joked.

"I could have just stayed home today," Balthazar said.

"Yeah, but if you had, we would have actually needed you today."

Lu almost wished Balthazar _had_ stayed home. He had to pretend he didn't notice the way the singer's eyes were almost always on him while he recorded the bass line. It was a bit distracting to be the center of attention. It wasn't like when they were at shows—at least then, he had four other people around him and every eye wasn't on him. When he was in that soundproofed room, everyone was watching him and it made him just a little self-conscious.

Still, when he finally got out and Castiel and Gabriel went in, Balthazar scooted closer to him on the couch and started whispering filthy things in his ear, making him relieved the blonde had decided to wait until everyone else's attention was elsewhere before provoking him.

Once Raphael finished off his cigarette, he waved goodbye and Lu and Balthazar (who had lit his own in the meantime) and went to his truck.

The blonde took a long drag on his cigarette. "So, to home?"

Lu shook his head, the beginning of a smile playing across his features. "I had something else in mind."

Balthazar grinned. "I quiver with anticipation."

"I thought that was your natural state."

The singer snorted with laughter. "Touché. What are you planning?"

Lu pretended he didn't feel his face heating up slightly. "Well, since I figured, you know, we're kind of dating now—"

"'Kind of,' nothing. This is about as official as I could make it."

"Right. _Anyway_." He still wasn't quite sure how he felt about the label "boyfriend" as applied to either Balthazar or him, but apparently Balthazar thought it was an appropriate one. "We haven't had a real date yet. So I think we should go on a real date."

"No _Titanic_."

Lu raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't on the schedule, but… care to explain why?"

"Later." Balthazar stubbed out his cigarette against the wall of Leviathan. "It's a very long story."

* * *

"So it really all started with that stupid Celine Dionne song," Balthazar explained two hours later. He took a bite of his burger before continuing. "But then it started spiraling to the whole franchise, you know? I mean, I have nothing against Leo or Kate but… _that song_." He gave an exaggerated shudder. "And then it just ruined the whole movie. Plus the whole thing is just clichéd romantic tripe set to a historic background anyway. Hell, if I could, I would go back in time and un-sink the damn ship. But I can't." Balthazar shrugged. "Plus it doesn't help that my sister is _obsessed_ with the movie. I swear she watches it every night."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

Balthazar nodded, taking another bite of his burger. "Naomi. Older sister. I like her, but her thing with _Titanic_ … it's a bit taxing."

Lu laughed. "So she still lives back in England?"

"No, she moved back to France to be closer to my dad."

Lu blinked. He wasn't sure why Balthazar's French heritage surprised him, considering the singer's last name couldn't be anything other than French. "So you lived there?"

"Until I was nine. Then my mother moved us to Scotland. That's where I learned English."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold the phone. English isn't your first language?"

Balthazar laughed and shook his head. "No, French is. But I picked up English pretty quickly. I don't even have an accent. Not a French one, anyway."

"That's true." Part of him wondered what Balthazar sounded like speaking French, but he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for him. "I wouldn't have guessed."

Balthazar chuckled softly. "So what about you? What's your family like?"

Lu kicked at the bumper of Bones for a minute before answering. "I… I don't really have anyone. I mean, there's my mom, but she lives up near LA. Apart from her… I have cousins on my dad's side in Mississippi, and my dad still lives there… but that's it."

"So what happened with your parents?" Balthazar asked quietly. His tone made it perfectly clear that, if he didn't want to, Lu didn't have to answer.

The strawberry blonde rubbed the bridge of his nose. "My dad was… well, he was an asshole. My mom left him, took me, and came to California when I was seven. He… I don't remember why exactly, but for some reason, he broke my arm."

Balthazar looked stunned. "My God. I had no idea."

"I barely remember this. I just remember my mom throwing half of my clothes in her station wagon and us driving for two or three days until we wound up here. Her parents never supported us because she pissed them off by marrying him in the first place, and his parents were already dead at that point, so we were really just relying on her the whole time."

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm not. My life would have sucked so much more if I were still living there."

"So your mum. She still lives around here then?" Balthazar asked hesitantly, as though afraid Lu would say something like she was dead.

"No. She got a job in the Los Angeles area when I was sixteen. Of course, by then, I was already really tight with Ray, so when he found out I was leaving, he flipped holy Hell. Long story short, I lived with him and his parents through the rest of high school. His parents were cool with me and my mom trusted them of course. And I was really happy because I got to live with my best friend for two and a half years." Lu took a sip of his Coke. "He was the first real friend I had, anyway. I had no friends in Mississippi. I think I just gave off that 'battered child' vibe even though my dad breaking my arm was literally the worst thing he ever did to me. Then we got here and I was still antisocial as fuck until middle school, and then Ray transferred to my school halfway through eighth grade. We kind of just latched onto each other, but he's been the best friend I had. If I didn't have him, there'd be no way I'd be the well-adjusted individual I am now," he added with a playful grin.

"Wow. I didn't realize you two were so close."

"For a long time, all we had was each other. He doesn't have any brothers or sisters either, and even in high school, after everyone started over, it was hard for both of us to make friends. But we had each other. I've been lucky enough." Lu cleared his throat, aware he was getting a bit choked up. "Anyway, you've been getting close with Cas, right?"

Balthazar's face, which had looked deadly serious until this point, resolved into a more relaxed expression. "Yeah, as strange as it seems. We're what I would consider polar opposites—"

"He's a relative innocent, and you're… not?" Lu joked.

The blonde lightly smacked the back of Lu's head. "Something like that. But we've still been able to bond. It's nice. I don't have to be this persona around him, this fictionalized representation of myself. No offense," he added at Lu's incredulous look. "He was the first person I was able to relax around in a long time. Mostly because I wasn't worried about getting into his pants," he said after a moment with a quick grin at the bassist. "He's got Dean and even though Gabe has Sam and I'm fairly sure Ray's straight—not entirely sure, just fairly—I connected with him the most."

"Ray's straight," Lu said, swallowing his last bite of burger and tossing the wrapper into the middle of the parking lot.

"If you say so," Balthazar laughed. "But even so—" His tone changed almost immediately. "Is that Michael?"

Lu's head instantly snapped in the direction Balthazar indicated. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. "Shit," he muttered. Balthazar was right—walking out of In-N-Out Burger was definitely Michael followed by two petite blondes—neither of whom was Eve—and a shorter guy with a week's worth of scruff across his face. "Yeah, that's him."

"Might be a little awkward to run into him right now, eh? Especially with your new singer?" Balthazar added with a grin.

"Especially since he's the fucker my ex was cheating on me with? Yeah, I'd say so." Lu finished off his Coke and tossed it to the side before climbing into the storage area of the hearse.

"What? What's up?"

"You wanna see me fight that asshole again? Because I can pretty much guaran-fucking-tee that that's gonna happen if he starts talking to me. I don't think you want to see that."

"Could be interesting," the blonde joked.

Lu glared at the four who had their food in hand as they continued across the parking lot. "What I want to know is who those other jokers are." Maybe Michael was sleeping with one of the girls. That would certainly explain Eve's reestablished interest in getting back into Lu's good books.

But Michael had caught sight of Balthazar, who was still perched near the back bumper and calmly finishing off Lu's fries. The former Blue Archangel singer looked at the blonde and then, inexplicably, his gaze shifted into the back of the hearse to see Lu's cold stare aimed right at him. Michael smirked and headed toward them.

"Well, look who it is. What are you doing so far from home?"

Lu hopped out of Bones and glared at Mikey, wishing he could shoot death-beams out of his eyes. "Just finished up at the studio for a day. We got signed with Leviathan a few weeks ago." A muscle in his jaw twitched and he hoped he'd be able to hop in the front seat and make a quick getaway if need be. Or that Balthazar would have the presence of mind to step in and break up a potential fight.

The other three were gathering up behind Michael in interest. "A record deal, huh? Pretty impressive." Michael's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I assume you found a new singer, then?"

"That would be me," Balthazar said smoothly, although Lu wished he had kept his mouth shut. He had no desire to make the blonde a target for whatever kind of revenge Michael may have had in mind.

The former singer's gaze immediately snapped onto Balthazar. The accent must have registered because he raised an eyebrow, but he didn't comment on it. "I'd probably feel threatened if we hadn't just signed with Leviathan last week."

"'We'?" Lu glanced at the three gathered behind Michael who didn't appear to regard them with any animosity, unlike Michael.

"Lilith, Chuck, and Ruby here. We're The Fallen Ones. Of course, Eve mentioned she saw you at the studio. Hard at work already, huh?"

Lu wasn't sure what to make of any of this information. "Yeah. Trying to get this cranked out as soon as possible. Is there something important you wanted, or are we just exchanging pleasantries?"

Michael scoffed. "That implies this is enjoyable. No, I just wanted to hear firsthand how you're doing. Call me sentimental, but I wondered."

It had already been a month and a half since Michael left, but it seemed sometimes like it had only been a few days. Anger started to buzz at the back of Lu's head, although he didn't know why. Maybe it was just that Michael had a tendency to infuriate him over stupid things or nothing at all. "Right. Well, we were just leaving," he nearly snarled, slamming the back of the hearse closed.

Michael narrowed his eyes. "So were we."

As soon as he and his new band were out of sight, Lu threw the rest of his fries halfway across the parking lot.

"I was eating those," Balthazar protested.

"I needed something to throw. I'll buy you another basket of fries if it means that much to you."

"I don't want different fries—I wanted _those_ fries," the blonde said. When Lu shot him a half-irritated, half-confused look, Balthazar grinned. He was obviously being deliberately petulant.

"Quit whining," he said, although the singer's smile was infectious.

By the time they climbed back into the front of Bones, the run-in with Michael had completely escaped Lu's mind.


	20. Highway 101

Lu could brush the incident with Michael off rather easily, but he found himself dwelling more on what he and Balthazar had talked about. Specifically, his father.

He hadn't thought about his father in a long time. He hadn't had cause to—Raphael's dad had been his father figure for the last ten years. That was one of the reasons he hadn't been too upset with Raphael's parents for essentially kicking him out of the house a few weeks before—he was twenty-five, and having two obnoxious twenty-five-year-olds in a band under one roof was probably a lot to handle. But Lu's real father hadn't even crossed his mind.

But now that he'd brought it up, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He hadn't seen his father in eighteen years, hadn't spoken to him since they left. He wondered about his dad. He couldn't help it.

He remembered his dad towering over him, although he'd been a little kid at the time. He wondered how tall his dad actually was; he had a feeling he was taller than him now. He couldn't remember a whole lot about him as a whole, though. He could only remember small things, like how he always stank of Captain Morgan when he fought with Lu's mother and how sharp his voice got when he was angry and how he would call him "Lucifer" like he was admonishing the Devil himself.

Mostly, though, he remembered that split second of terror before the agonizing pain of when his dad broke his arm.

He didn't remember anything else from that night, just the fear and the pain. He didn't like thinking about it, didn't like remembering anything from before he turned nine.

Anger bubbled up in him, a delayed reaction for the horror inflicted on his seven-year-old self. He was just a kid, and the way his father had treated him… no child deserved that. Your father was supposed to love you, take care of you, give you strength, and Lu had been denied that. He suddenly wanted to drive to Mississippi and punch out his dad, but part of him knew that, if he saw him again, he might just revert to that childhood fear of him for no reason.

Balthazar murmured something unintelligible in his sleep and spooned closer to Lu. In that moment, the trance he'd been in was broken, and he let out a tired sigh. His dad wasn't here. It was just him and Balthazar, and he felt himself relaxing, however slightly. They cared about each other. That was what counted right now. He didn't need his dad—that had been proven to him eighteen years ago when he mom buckled him into her car and took off, never looking back.

Maybe he could squeeze a few angry songs out of this. Hell, it might be the one good thing his dad gave him, and maybe he could move on.

Resolving to put it all out of his mind for the time being, Lu closed his eyes and, tracing the tattoos on Balthazar's arms, finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The rest of the week passed without incident, except for Friday morning. Castiel showed up to the studio with a huge smile on his face, one that Lu had only seen once before—the day after his first date with Dean. He wasn't the only one to notice it, either. Gabriel looked him up and down and said, "So, what happened to you?"

Castiel looked around and realized his entire band was regarding him with interest. With an added blush to his smile, he said, "Well, it's a long story…"

"We've got time," Balthazar said. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, giving Castiel a reassuring smile.

The guitarist's blush deepened. "Well, okay. Um, Dean and I… we're getting married."

There was silence for a split second before they all burst out talking at once.

"Congrats, man! That's amazing!"

"When are you getting married?"

"Who asked who?"

"Holy shit! Congratulations!"

Castiel gave them an embarrassed sort of grin. "Thanks. We wanted to do it quickly, so it's tentative for next Saturday. And he asked me."

Gabriel swept him into an excited hug, which was quite an accomplishment, considering Gabriel was three inches shorter than him. "This is so exciting!"

"I'm going to want to hear this story in its entirety," Balthazar added. "Not right now, of course. Later."

_Why? Taking notes?_ Lu thought, although that prospect was terrifying. Even the idea of getting engaged right now—to anyone, let alone someone he'd just sort-of started dating a week ago—was overwhelming.

"Next week, huh? You really _are_ in a hurry, aren't you?" Raphael half-joked.

"Like I said, we wanted to do it quickly. I mean, we've basically been married for the last year. It's just a matter of making it official." As he spoke, his whole demeanor took on a contented air; he almost seemed to be glowing with happiness. "We're going up to Canada for it. Sam already bought tickets for the four of us," he added with a glance toward Gabriel. "But, of course, you three are invited as well."

Raphael grinned. "We could make a road trip out of it," he said. He was always up for a road trip.

_Locked in a car for a day and a half with my best friend and my boyfriend?_ Lu could already feel the insanity creeping up on him. Still, Balthazar was starting to grin, too.

"That doesn't sound like a half-bad idea. What do you think, Luce?"

He was pretty sure he saw Raphael raise his eyebrow at Balthazar calling him "Luce," but the drummer didn't comment. Lu couldn't tell what he wanted to do more: punch Balthazar's smug smile off his face, or drag him off to that storage closet and christen it. When the blonde called him that, it was sweet and had the effect of making Lu agree to pretty much anything. "Alright, fine. But we're taking Bones," he added with a sharp look at Raphael.

The drummer's grin hitched slightly. Apparently, he still wasn't comfortable with the idea of riding around in a secondhand hearse. "Well… okay, whatever."

Castiel's smile widened. "Wonderful!"

* * *

"You know, it's not so bad back here. It's roomy," Raphael called from the back of Bones. "Maybe you could get a disco ball or something, hang it right in the middle here."

It was the following Thursday, around ten in the morning. They'd been on the road for an hour now and Raphael had made himself comfortable on the queen-sized mattress Lu and Balthazar had dragged out of Lu's old room (he'd basically moved his stuff into Balthazar's room) and wedged into the back. It just barely fit, but Lu had figured it would. The trunk had been designed to hold bodies.

"You know, there's another seat right there," Lu pointed out with a grin, indicating the third seat, behind the passenger's seat and next to where the hypothetical casket was meant to rest.

"Yeah, but how often do you get the chance to crash on a mattress in the back of a body trolley?" Raphael joked.

"I see you've made yourself at home back there," Balthazar said, smiling.

"I'm trying to forget that there were dead people back here."

Lu snorted with laughter and checked his rearview mirror quickly. The temporary plates on his back windshield had finally been removed; his real license plates had arrived and he'd giddily attached them.

Things were finally coming together again. The album was close to being finished; they were planning a small promotion tour, opening for quite a few big-name bands around the West Coast and Nevada; Castiel and Dean were getting married (honestly, Lu thought it was about time—Castiel hadn't been exaggerating when he said they'd basically been married for the last year); things with him and Balthazar were actually going pretty well, better than he expected; and aside from dropping his phone in the sink on Tuesday, his technology was behaving. He knew he should be wary. This was the time when bad shit started happening.

But he couldn't make himself worry too much. It was easy to forget that Balthazar hadn't always been a band member with the way he clicked with the group. They were all getting to be great friends, which was a relief for Lu. The last thing he wanted was more drama in the band (although the thing with him and Balthazar would probably cause a bit of drama when it came time for the big reveal).

They stopped every twenty miles or so as the scenery on the California coast changed. There were areas for people to stop on the side of the road to take pictures, which Balthazar abused the holy Hell out of. He'd brought a tripod and his camera and made them get out and take pictures of the three of them, but Lu couldn't even pretend to be too upset about it. Raphael, too, was pretty excited about the idea of having a photographic record of their trip.

About ten hours into the trip, they rotated drivers. Lu was starting to nod off at the wheel, so he went to the mattress and fell asleep while Balthazar started driving. Raphael rode shotgun until four-thirty the next morning, when Raphael took over and Balthazar hit the mattress after a stop at a gas station for fuel (gas, smokes, and food) and to hit the bathroom. The blonde was well-aware of his tendency to spoon up to Lu in his sleep and, if only because he knew Lu still wasn't ready to tell anyone about them yet, was relieved when Lu crawled into the passenger's seat. He didn't think the bassist would be too happy to wake up and discover Raphael's questioning look at them from the rearview.

He was actually surprised Raphael hadn't used the time while Lu was unconscious to dig for details, although maybe he was just being paranoid. Balthazar didn't think he'd been overly subtle, but maybe everyone was so wrapped up in their own personal relationships that they didn't notice. Castiel, for sure, was almost certainly oblivious to whatever tension there was between the singer and the bassist. Gabriel might have noticed based on his smirks, but he was starting to realize that was just Gabriel's typical expression.

He expected better observation from Raphael, to be honest, considering he and Lu were best friends, but if his developing relationship with Anna was that distracting, it was possible no one really knew what was going on. He supposed he should have been grateful for that, though. If Lu even thought someone else suspected what was going on, he might get freaked out. He liked to keep his private life just that—private—until he was good and ready.

Still, it was hard work to keep his hands to himself, especially when Raphael was passed out in the back. He really just wanted to drag Lu into the gas station bathroom and fuck him senseless (and he entertained the notion for long enough to really frustrate himself) but finally accepted that he would just have to wait until they arrived at the hotel the next day.

* * *

They had just enough time when they arrived to shower, shave, and change into clothes they hadn't been wearing for the last day and a half before Gabriel came by their rooms and carted them off to the courthouse. The dress code was, mercifully, not suits—Castiel was the most formally dressed in his Army Dress Uniform, but Dean was in khakis and a tie and Sam and Gabe both wore jeans, along with three other people who were already present.

Lu recognized the dark-haired man standing near Castiel in a sport coat—it was Castiel's father. His mother, Lu knew, had been dead for eight years. The last he'd heard, the elder Collins wasn't thrilled about his son being gay, but apparently he'd forgiven him that, or at least decided to shelve his opinions, because he was standing there with a huge smile on his face. The other two, a man and a woman, were presumably Dean's parents, John and Mary. John and Castiel's father Ross had apparently hit it off because the two of them were chatting comfortably while Mary straightened Dean's tie.

"I guess this basically makes Gabe and Cas in-laws, huh?" Raphael joked as their small group headed to the front.

"One more wedding for that," Lu said. "Although I doubt that'll be too far off." He saw how Gabriel looked at Sam sometimes, when the younger Winchester wasn't looking. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the guitarist adored him.

"Everyone's here! Let's get started!" Gabriel said excitedly.

The ceremony was brief, but by the end of it, Dean was crying with a smile on his face that Lu had never seen before. His parents were smiling, too, and even Castiel's father had a fond expression. Castiel, for his part, had abandoned his usual stoic look and was grinning just as much as Dean.

Balthazar insisted on taking pictures of everyone and everything, much to Gabriel's amusement. He took every opportunity he could to photobomb them, although the singer did manage to get a few normal pictures. As soon as the certificate was signed by both grooms and their witnesses (Mr. Collins for one and Sam for the other), Mary Winchester took all ten of them out to lunch.

It was the first real meal Lu had eaten in two days, and he was grateful for it. He tried to enjoy it, but Balthazar's hand was on his leg under the table and it was distracting. He was really just hoping no one else noticed that the singer's arm was at a strange angle and clearly practically in Lu's lap, but everyone seemed to be far more interested in the newlyweds. He had to admit that, if Balthazar was going to use a cover to tease him, he was smart for using this one. It was unlikely that anyone would so much as glance at them.

This just meant that by the time they got back to their own room (Raphael hadn't questioned them rooming together), it was only a matter of minutes before they were stripped down and fucking like porn stars. He managed to keep his voice down, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his louder groans, but when Balthazar leaned over and started whispering filthy things in his ear, he cried out and started pumping his cock.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, and part of Lu dreaded the coming morning. It heralded the return to pretending there wasn't this deeper relationship between them, feigning that they were just friends. He knew they would have to tell the band soon, but for right now, he was content to lie there, nose buried in Balthazar's blond curls, arms around him.


	21. Sick Boys

Since Castiel and Dean Collins-Winchester (or Winchester-Collins, in Dean's case) were spending the next week in Canada for their honeymoon, the whole band came back to California late on Tuesday and were given a pass on being in the studio for the week. Balthazar went back to work at Armageddon on Wednesday, and Lu pestered Gabriel and then Raphael at work (both of whom had been able to pick up a few hours that week). Part of Lu wished he still had that job at Radio Shack right now—he was bored with bouncing around the house all the time with nothing to occupy his time but chain-smoking and Netflix. Finally, he dug out the one song he'd written about a month ago, the one he assumed would never see the light of day.

He reread the words a few more times, unconsciously making corrections and additions. It was definitely different, more introspective than he was used to. He could almost hear the acoustic guitar chords in his head to accompany the words. It sounded good, though. Smiling slightly, he grabbed a pen and fixed what needed fixing, then headed back to Bones.

He returned to Guitar Center, but instead of locating Raphael, he went directly to the acoustic guitar section, waved at the clerk by the register, and picked up the first guitar he could find.

He wasn't the greatest guitar player—not like Castiel or Gabriel (or Raphael)—but he could squeeze out a few chords when inspiration struck him. He just needed a bit of time and some blank sheet music and he'd get this song down.

Raphael found him nearly an hour later in a soundproof booth and shot him a puzzled look. "Dude. What are you doing here?"

Lu faintly heard him and looked up. "Huh?"

"What... are you... doing?" he repeated.

"Oh. Um." He lifted the guitar to show him. "Figuring some shit out."

The drummer let out an exasperated sigh. "You should just buy a damn guitar already."

"Why would I do that when I have you and this sweet hookup?" Lu joked.

Raphael rolled his eyes but smiled as he closed the door behind him and picked up the papers laid out in front of Lu. "Alright, whatcha got here?"

"Don't laugh. I'll beat you."

He nodded to himself as he scanned the words and then the music. Then he held out his hand for the guitar and Lu passed it over. "Okay. Not bad. Let's see..." He checked the tuning on the guitar and then started softly strumming the chords written down. It sounded infinitely better than when Lu did it, more fluid. "Okay, I like that, but... How about this?" He changed one of the chords and Lu had to admit that it sounded better.

"Yeah, that's really good."

"Were you writing this a few weeks ago?"

"Off and on, yeah."

"So, what do you think? Add this in? Get the band together?"

Lu scratched the back of his head. "I wanted to leave it acoustic. I was gonna _maybe_ try to sneak it in at the end, like a bonus track. So we don't need the whole band."

"Just Balthazar and a guitarist?"

Lu was silent for a minute. This song was different. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to put it on the album, and he didn't think he wanted Balthazar to even know this song existed. Not right away, anyway. After all, the song was _about_ him. Raphael didn't know that, though. "You and me. I was gonna do the guitar part myself but it sounds a fuck-ton better with you playing, so... yeah. Are you okay with that?"

Raphael's brows furrowed. "You? _You're_ gonna sing this?"

"I planned on it," he said with just a hint of snark in his voice.

"Hey, I just remember a certain bassist vowing to never sing, that's all."

"It's one damn song. It's not like I'm the new frontman or anything."

"I'm just fucking with you." Raphael gave Lu a playful nudge with his elbow. "Alright, if we're gonna do this thing, we should probably practice it a few times, right? So let's get started."

"Don't you have work?"

"I'm off the clock."

* * *

They ran through the song about ten times. Lu's voice was shaky and quiet at first, uncomfortable with nerves and disuse, but by the end, he sounded confident. He was sure now that they'd pop into the studio and record this sometime this week, probably the next day since Raphael hadn't picked up hours on Thursday. For his part, Raphael didn't ask for the backstory on the lyrics. Typically, no one did because they knew Lu preferred keeping certain parts of his life to himself, but he figured, if anything, this song would earn him a quizzical look.

He wondered just how much Raphael (and Castiel and Gabriel) suspected. Did any of them have any idea what was actually happening? It was hard to tell exactly what they'd think. He tried to push it out of his mind as he went over the words again and again, slowly memorizing the lyrics. Whatever happened, he was glad Raphael wasn't the type to ask too many questions, at least not while he still thought things were okay.

This would be the perfect time to tell him, though. He could easily say, "Hey, by the way, I'm fucking our singer," even though the words sounded stupid, even in his head. Maybe, "For the record, this song is about Balthazar" would go over better. But no, he couldn't say that. _Balthazar and I are dating. Balthazar is my boyfriend. Balthazar and I have entered into a mutually exclusive relationship._ God, those all sounded dumb. He couldn't work up the nerve to mention anything out of the blue. He almost hoped Raphael _would_ ask, if only so he could finally provide an explanation.

But he wanted to tell Balthazar he was going to say something before he actually did it. That was finally what made him decide to keep his mouth shut unless, by some miracle, Raphael actually did ask what was on his mind.

But it never happened, and when Lu finally went back home for the day, he left the music and lyrics with Raphael so he could practice more.

* * *

Balthazar still wasn't home when he returned, so he went to his old room and sank into the middle of the floor (the mattress was still in the back of Bones, and he figured they'd leave it there for the time being—they'd been too exhausted last night to move it back and he couldn't do it by himself). He hummed the opening bars of the song (he still hadn't decided on a title) and started softly singing. Now that he had Raphael's strumming in his head, it was easier to remember the words, and he only fumbled once or twice. He liked the idea more and more, the thought of putting this song on the album. Hell, they could record it and add it and not tell anyone about it. That was how most secret bonus tracks worked anyway.

The front door opened, distracting him from the song, and he stood up and headed to the living room.

"Hey," Balthazar said cheerily. "Have plans for the next few hours?"

Lu raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Why?"

"I had an epiphany at work. Since we are practically rock stars now"—Lu snorted with laughter at that—"Shut up. Anyway, I decided I'm going to get my snakebites redone. I just came back to change clothes," he added with a glance down at his black work polo shirt with _Armageddon Bar & Grille_ embroidered on it. "Do you want to come with me?"

Lu had to admit that he liked the idea of being there and watching his face. It would be interesting, considering he'd only had his tongue pierced before (when he was nineteen, but still). "Yeah, sure."

"Excellent," he said with a grin.

The singer changed his clothes quickly, reappearing in jeans, a white V-neck, and a leather jacket. He lit up a cigarette, the first one Lu had seen in three or four days (it appeared he was serious about quitting smoking, if somewhat gradually), and let out a halfway contented exhale. "Gotta enjoy my last one for awhile."

"Maybe it'll be the catalyst to help you quit," Lu suggested.

"You're a fine one to talk. The whole place reeks of cigarettes."

"What do you expect me to do? You leave me home alone for hours at a time—you're lucky I don't scratch up the sofa," the bassist joked.

Balthazar chuckled and blew out a stream of smoke. "A fair point. What _did_ you do all day?"

"Went to see Ray and Gabe. Drove around just because I could. Nothing too exciting."

He nodded. "So," he said quietly. "Did you tell them? About... us, I mean."

Lu's heart skipped a beat. "No. I didn't. I almost told Ray, but... I don't know, Balthy, I just... I'm not sure I'm ready yet." He nervously tapped his fingers on the back of the couch. "What if they freak out? What if they're against it? I don't want to face that yet."

For a brief moment, a disappointed look crossed Balthazar's face, but it disappeared. "I see." He took a long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in the nearest ashtray. "Alright, love, let's get going. I have an appointment in thirty minutes."

"You made an appointment to get your lip pierced?"

"Of course. I certainly wouldn't want to waste my time coming in only to discover no one was there."

That did make sense, so Lu swung his jacket over his shoulders and followed Balthazar out the door.

He ended up taking a video of Balthazar getting his lip pierced again. The singer took every opportunity he could to flip him off, but in the end, the snakebites looked good. He was quite satisfied, and just before he left, he made an appointment for the next day to get his tongue pierced again. He did miss it, he realized, if only a little.

But it had to wait until after he and Raphael recorded the song tomorrow. He wanted to be able to talk, after all.

* * *

It was weird, being the only two in the studio. They managed to get their room unlocked and, while Raphael set up the guitar and microphones in the soundproof room, Lu messed with the recording equipment and finally hit RECORD. He told Raphael through the mike on his end, "Alright, I got it recording right now. You ready?"

The drummer gave him a thumbs-up.

"Give me a second." He ducked away from the equipment and headed into the room, closing it behind him. He knew the mikes were picking all this up, but it would just add to the charm. He rustled the papers in his hand and scanned them quickly to make sure he knew the words. He wanted to rely on this lyric sheet as little as possible. "Ready when you are."

Raphael grinned at him and started strumming.

_One take. Don't mess this up._ He waited the appropriate eight bars before he started singing. _"A sea of faces look at me, but you're the only one I see. I catch my breath, can't look away, and I hope you're here to stay. Don't know what I've found, only that it's you. Lover, you are mine, and I belong to you. A wink, a smile, and my heart stops. A touch, a kiss, should call the cops. I've fucked up, I'm sure you'll go, but I'm sick of sleeping all alone. But then you stay, you hold my hand, and I just don't understand. Don't know what I've found, only that it's you. Lover, you are mine, and I belong to you. Will I ever learn from this? All I want is one more kiss. One more day and I'll be fine. I can't need you all the time. I try to tell you, try to say, but the words just fly away. You smile and I can barely breathe, but now I think I start to see. Might know what I've found, I know that it's you. Lover, you are mine, and I belong to you. So hold me close, and let the world fade. I'll hold you, too, and we can stay. You saved me, you saved me, you saved me, you saved me. I know what I found, I'm glad that I found you. Lover, you are mine, and I belong to you. I know what I found, I'm glad that I found you. Lover, you are mine, and I belong to you."_

Raphael strummed the closing chords and Lu nearly collapsed with relief. "Holy shit. I actually didn't fuck up."

"Sounded good, actually," his best friend agreed, grinning. "What are we calling this treasure?"

Lu laughed, giddy with the recording high. "Fuck, I have no idea. Wait, I got it. 'Love Letters.'"

"I am honored to have been a part of this." Raphael slid the guitar strap over his head. "Maybe you should go hit 'stop,' though."

"Yeah, hang on," he said, laughing again. He ducked out of the room and scrambled toward the equipment, locating STOP and pressing it. On a whim, he hit PLAY, and as Raphael began disassembling the mikes and guitar, there came the ambiance of the studio and then Lu's recorded voice saying, _"Alright, I got it recording right now. You ready? Give me a second."_ He grinned.

Raphael flopped down on the couch as they listened to the song. Upon listening, Lu could detect some moments when his voice wavered or just sounded unsteady or unsure, but it contributed to the whole song. It would be obvious to someone who listened to it that it was done last-minute, on the fly, an afterthought, albeit a heartfelt one.

Again, Raphael gave him a look that said he wanted to ask about the song. Lu could tell he was really thinking about it. A totally unjustified sense of panic welled up inside him and, the moment the song stopped (it was a winner—he liked it a lot), he started turning off the recording equipment, turning his back to Ray. He still wasn't ready for this conversation.

He hoped he would be soon, though. It would be a relief to finally admit what was really going on, and he imagined Balthazar would beam at him when he told him. He just didn't know what he was waiting for. He supposed he'd know it when it happened, but something still held him back, and until he could figure out what it was, he was keeping this locked up tight.


	22. Mommy's Little Monster

Lu did end up going to get his tongue pierced early on Friday morning, but by the time Saturday night and their next show rolled around, he'd been sucking on so much ice that he could speak coherently again, which was a relief. Balthazar was still getting used to having rings through his lip again (just as Lu was getting used to the stud in his tongue), so he had to work extra hard to pronounce his words correctly, but he managed better than Lu probably could have.

Castiel had returned from his honeymoon earlier on Saturday, making sure he had enough time to make it to the show by catching a red-eye flight with his new husband. Lu strongly suspected Dean would be waiting backstage when they were finished with the show, but they _were_ newlyweds. They could be forgiven for that.

It was a regular show, nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing that tipped him off about what was barreling toward him at top speed. Sure, Balthazar openly flirted with basically the whole audience, but that was his standard practice. He would be coming home with Lu at the end of the night. Nothing was different. All he knew was, after they'd taken their final bows and ducked off the stage amid cheers and Balthazar repeating, again, that they were almost finished with their first album (followed by more cheers), Crowley was backstage chatting with someone Lu recognized.

Her face was drawn and haggard. She looked so much older than the last time he'd seen her, and he knew that if she was here right now, it could only be a bad thing. The bottom dropped out his stomach as she turned her head and caught sight of him.

"Hi, Mom," he said anxiously. In his peripherals, he saw Balthazar's head snap in her direction.

Melinda Pellegrino gave him a shaky smile as Crowley took his leave, going to hover near the rest of the band. "Hi, Lu. How've you been?" The Southern twag to her words had never quite melted out of her voice, not like Lu's had.

Unsure of what was happening, he furrowed his brows. "Pretty good. What's going on?"

Her smile dropped. "I tried to call you. Your phone was disconnected, I think."

"I had to get a new phone. The old one fell in the sink."

"And then I went to your apartment. Eve said you broke up?"

"Yeah. Close to two months ago, I think it's been. Maybe three. I moved out ages ago."

"And then I went to Oak Ridge."

"I got laid off. Not too long after Eve dumped me, actually."

"I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible."

"It... it wasn't so bad. We just got a record deal so I don't really have time for work right now anyway. And I'm seeing someone else now, too," he added, more quietly.

She asked carefully, "Do I know them?"

Lu shot a quick glance toward Balthazar, who was keeping one eye on the two of them out of curiosity. It was enough to tip off Lu's mother, though.

"Him?"

Lu sighed. "Yeah. Him." It was a huge weight off his chest to finally admit it to _someone_ , even his own mother. "His name's Balthazar. Balthazar Roché. I like him a lot, too." Suddenly, he couldn't stop talking. "He gave me a place to live after Ray's parents kicked me out, and he drove me around all the time before I got my new car, and he took care of me a few nights I got completely trashed and..." He swallowed nervously. This conversation was growing more and more awkward by the second. "Well, anyway. It's not important. What... what's happening? What's so important that you had to drag down here just to talk to me?"

"Like I said, I tried to call you first. But your phone... It couldn't really wait until the next time you happened to call."

"What couldn't wait?"

She regarded him closely for a few moments, her brown eyes searching, before she sighed. "Your father died on Thursday."

It should _not_ have felt like such a punch in the stomach. He should _not_ have gasped and nearly doubled over so suddenly that he went dizzy. Balthazar should _not_ have had to come sweeping in with just enough time to catch him before he fell over completely. But it did, he did, and Balthazar did. He found himself gripping the side of Balthazar's shirt (which he had put on immediately upon getting backstage) for support, his breathing labored to his own ears. Balthazar's arm was tightly around his waist and his head was spinning and all he could think was, _He's dead? He's actually dead?_

It was horribly unsatisfying. There was no closure to it. He realized all at once that, yes, he _had_ wanted to see his father one last time to figure out what had happened. He _had_ wanted to talk to him once more, if only to yell at him and let out eighteen years of pent-up anger and aggression.

And now he couldn't because the bastard up and died on him.

"What happened?" he asked hoarsely.

"Your aunt Lisa said he had a heart attack," Melinda said, referring to his father's sister. "It was very sudden."

"Fuck," Lu muttered. " _Fuck._ " It wasn't fair. What was he supposed to do now?

"The funeral is going to be on Monday. I'm flying out tomorrow." She gave him a piercing look. "I think you should come, too. I know you never really forgave him for what happened—"

"You're goddamn right, I didn't," he snapped abruptly, taking them all off guard. "He fucking broke my arm! I was a _kid_! What kind of dad _does_ that?!"

"Look, Lu," she said softly. Right. Even after not actually living with him for nine years, she still knew exactly how to calm him down. "I know what your dad did to you was unforgivable. I know you hate him. But I also know that part of you still needed to see him. You never got that chance. This is as close to closure as you're going to get now."

He knew she was right. He could feel it just as strongly as he felt Balthazar's hand, pressing but gentle, on his hip. Just as he knew he wasn't dizzy anymore, he could stand on his own, he didn't need to lean on the singer, yet he would continue to do so because it was comforting to know that someone was holding him, he knew that she was right. "I'll think about it," he murmured.

"What's going on?" Raphael asked abruptly, Gabriel trailing him to where Lu, his mother, and Balthazar were standing. Balthazar immediately let go of Lu and the bassist straightened up, pretending he hadn't just been slumped against the blonde. Melinda raised her eyebrows curiously, but Lu knew that she was probably guessing correctly: the band didn't know about their relationship.

"My dad died."

"Oh." Raphael appeared to be struggling to figure out how he should feel. He finally asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, not really." He couldn't adequately explain to them why he was upset, but he was. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, can you just give us a minute? I need to talk to my mom, alright?"

"Yeah, sure." Raphael started backing away, and Gabriel followed his cue. Balthazar left too, after a quick nod from Lu.

"I know this is painful—"

"That's one word for it."

"Honey, please. I know he certainly wasn't about to win any Father of the Year awards, but he _was_ your father. It'll be good for you to go."

"I don't understand why _you're_ even going."

"Because we had a past, Lu. Believe it or not, I was in love with him once. I loved him enough to marry him, and he gave me you, after all."

Lu's chest tightened all over again, but for a different reason. They'd never discussed this before. "I'd have sent me back," he half-joked.

She gave him a sad smile and shook her head. "I wouldn't, and I didn't. And if I had to do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat. For all the bad that's happened, there's been enough good to make it all worth it, and you have always been the best, most important part."

The strawberry blonde swallowed sharply. He wasn't used to hearing anything like this from his mom. They exchanged "I love you"s but nothing this heartfelt. He wondered what else he didn't know about what had really transpired eighteen years ago. What exactly had his mother been forced to give up for him, just to keep him safe and happy?

"Do you know why I named you Lucifer?"

He had to admit, he'd always wondered that. "Because you knew I'd be a little devil?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Not at all. Most people don't know this, but the name Lucifer means 'bringer of light,' and you did. You brought light into my life. Your dad wasn't too happy about it, but I wasn't about to let him name you Donald."

Lu's eyes widened at the fact that he'd _almost_ been named Donald. "I feel like I dodged a bullet there."

Melinda laughed softly.

"I didn't know any of that," he added quietly.

"No, I didn't think so. I never told you, did I? But I'm telling you now, and I've been very fortunate to have you in my life."

Lu nodded briefly. "I... I don't think I ever thanked you for taking me away from him."

"You were just a boy."

"I know. And I wouldn't have understood then what was happening. But I get it now. So... thanks. I love you," he added.

She stroked his cheek, giving him a fond smile. "I love you, too. Everything I did was _because_ I love you. That's why I stayed with him for so long—I thought he could change and I didn't want to deprive you of a father. But when he hurt you like that, I knew it was pointless to hope anymore. I knew you'd be better off without him. We both would. So I did what was best for both of us. For what it's worth, I think you turned out pretty well."

"I had help."

She nodded. "Ray. I'm glad you two have been friends for so long." She chuckled to herself. "You know, I didn't want to uproot you again after I got that job. I was actually glad when he basically demanded to let you live with him. His parents are good people. They were in the audience with me tonight."

"You saw the show?"

Melinda laughed and nodded. "Yes. I can't believe it's actually taken me this long to come see you. I mean, I missed the last few minutes because I wanted to be back here when you left the stage, but I saw most of it."

"So... what did you think?"

"You're very talented," she offered with an embarrassed grin.

"You didn't like it, did you?"

She laughed. "It's not that I didn't like it. I liked the lyrics a lot, honestly. It's just not my preferred style of music. I'll stick with Led Zeppelin, but don't worry about your old mom. I'm proud of you anyway, especially getting that record deal. Speaking of which, whatever happened to that Michael guy you were always complaining about?"

"Oh, he quit. The night Eve broke up with me, actually. Balthazar replaced him."

"I see. And... not that he's not a phenomenal singer, but did he get the job because of you?"

"No—I mean, I agreed to it, but so did Ray and Cas and Gabe. We... I didn't even know him at the time. We weren't... involved until a few weeks ago," he added quietly, glancing at the rest of his band to make sure they weren't listening in.

Gabriel had vanished with Sam, so Heaven only knew what they were getting up to (although Lu could take an educated guess). Balthazar was talking to Castiel, who had leaned back against Dean on the sofa. The guitarist's husband had laced their fingers together and seemed unable to look away from the matching bands on their ring fingers. Raphael and Crowley stood a little further apart from the band, speaking quietly. Lu wondered why their manager was talking to him with such a serious expression on his face.

"So I take it they don't know?"

"Not yet. I'll tell them soon. It's just that... this is new to me."

"Dating a guy?"

"No, not—well, okay, _yeah_ , but I meant dating a bandmate. We're still trying to figure out where we fit together and learn how to be a—a couple" (his voice tripped slightly over the word) "and doing it with the whole band breathing down our necks seems a bit daunting. But we'll tell them soon. There's just been a lot of upheaval lately. For all of us. Cas got married," he added.

"I didn't even know he was engaged."

"Yeah, well, they just got engaged about two weeks ago. They got married last Saturday."

Melinda furrowed her brows. "That seems a little rushed. Why so soon?"

"I think it's because we're going to be touring the coast soon and Dean won't be able to come with us. He has to work and he can't just take time off to follow us around. So they wanted to have as much time as a married couple as they could before they left. Although it'll still suck to be gone, I guess returning home to your husband as opposed to your boyfriend is a bit sweeter."

"I would imagine so." She let out a small sigh. "Well, my flight tomorrow leaves at noon, so I have to head back to Los Angeles soon. I just wanted you to know what was happening. Do you think you'll come to the funeral?"

It just took two seconds of looking at her imploring expression for him to relent. "Yeah, I'll go. I'll book a flight tonight and see you tomorrow."

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss. "Thank you. I think it could be just the closure you need."

"Yeah, seeing him dead and not being what caused it? I doubt it," he half-joked. His mother gave him a reproachful look. "Sorry," he added.

"I'll see you tomorrow, honey. Call me when you land and I'll come pick you up."

"Yeah, thanks."

As soon as she left, he steered himself back toward his band as they all fell silent.

"Well?" Raphael asked.

"I'm going back to Mississippi for my dad's funeral. Flying out tomorrow. I just have to book a flight, the funeral's on Monday, and I'll try to come back on Tuesday. I am _not_ letting his family try to guilt me into staying."

"Well, that's a relief. It would be a shame to lose our bassist right at the tail end of recording this album," Raphael joked.

Balthazar looked like he wanted to rush right over to him and provide some measure of comfort to him—what, Lu couldn't imagine—but he held himself back, and he was grateful for it. He didn't do public displays of affection well, the catch before he fell notwithstanding, and he'd probably tense up.

"Yeah. I just want to go home and pack before I descend into Hell," he muttered.

After they packed up all their gear and loaded Raphael's drum kit into his truck, Balthazar took Lu right home. He needed to pack his clothes and book his flight and go straight to sleep. He was too emotionally drained for anything else.


	23. Dear Lover

After Lu and Balthazar got back home, the bassist pulled out his laptop and booked a flight and a room at the same hotel his mother was staying at. He'd texted her with his new phone number and gotten the information from her, but booking a flight last-minute like this was expensive. The only reason he didn't start drinking the moment he got home was because booze and fresh facial piercings didn't mix. Cigarettes and fresh facial piercings didn't mix, either—he could tell Balthazar was dying for a smoke.

"You alright?" the blonde asked, gently running his fingers through Lu's hair as the younger man sat perched in front of his laptop.

He didn't answer for a minute, mulling over all possible responses in his head. _Was_ he okay? He supposed he should have been—it wasn't like his father had been a huge part of his life. Only his absence had been particularly noteworthy, and it wasn't like he could have been in Lu's life any less than he had been on Wednesday. But on the other hand, he wouldn't ever have the chance to confront him, to resolve the last eighteen years of his life. It was just over, just like that. "I guess," he finally muttered.

"You guess?"

"Yeah. I guess. I don't know, Balthy, how am I _supposed_ to feel? I mean, I'm not delighted he's dead or anything, but it's not like I'm really gonna miss the asshole. He's just... I don't know, just a little more gone than he was three days ago."

"That's fine, love. You don't have to mourn him. All things considered, I would probably question your sanity if you did. But I can understand being a little sad."

Lu sighed and rested his face in his hands, letting Balthazar continue to stroke his hair. "Yeah. I am. Just a little."

"Want me to come with you?"

"What? To Mississippi?"

"Yes."

Did he want Balthazar to come with him? Every instinct he had was screaming _yes_. Of course he wanted the blonde to come with him.

But he knew he couldn't bring him. Not if he wanted to avoid arousing his bandmates' suspicion. He wanted to keep them in the dark as long as possible, even if the plan was to inform them eventually.

"Yes," he said quietly as Balthazar finally stopped playing with his hair. "But you need to stay here. My dad's family isn't the most liberal group of people."

"You don't have to tell them who I am. It's not like you tell anyone who I really am to you, anyway."

Lu's stomach clenched. "That's not fair. I told you why... why I can't. And my mom knows," he added.

"But you can't tell your best friend?"

Lu felt his temper flare, but for the first time, there was an undercurrent of desperation and frustration. "This is why I want to wait to tell them—shit goes south for me quick. This—this is bound to be awkward if and when we break up, and I want as few people to be affected by it as possible. It wouldn't be a problem if we weren't in the same fucking band, but we are. I _know_ Gabe is gonna have some smart-ass comment, probably several, and—"

"So you're withholding the information because the band joker will do what he does best?"

He could hear the anger in Balthazar's voice now, and it just pissed him off more. He'd explained what was going on, after all. He'd told him repeatedly why he wanted to wait. It wasn't fair for him to try to guilt Lu into confessing when he wasn't ready. "No," he growled. "I'm _withholding the information_ because I want us to get used to this before we go telling people we have to work with." He wanted this to last, and rushing things seemed counterproductive. "I'm not used to this."

"Like I am? I haven't been in a relationship in four years, and it figures that when I finally am, he wants to keep it a bloody secret."

"Now wait a goddamn second—"

But Balthazar stood up. "I don't know, Lu, it seems like you're embarrassed to be with me or something. Maybe it would be better if we weren't. That would save you the trouble of having to tell anyone about us."

Lu's blood ran cold and all the anger drained out of him. "Can we not do this right now? I just want to get through the next few days, which is gonna be hard enough without... without you there. And I'm _not_ embarrassed by you. But we can talk about this when I get back."

Balthazar was silent for a few moments. Finally, he let out a derisive snort and said, "Yeah. Sure." Without so much as a backwards glance, he left Lu there in the living room and went to their bedroom.

The strawberry blonde wanted to curl in on himself and scream. That wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go. They weren't supposed to fight like this. He couldn't even fathom where Balthazar's blowup had come from, but the singer's words chased themselves around in his head.

Balthazar wanted to break up. Lu had pissed him off so much that he just wanted to end it. They'd barely had a fucking chance to be together, and it was already over.

But maybe it was better to let it go now. Maybe the breakup was inevitable. There was no point in prolonging it. The best thing they could do was end it now before one of them got too attached or—Heaven forbid—fell in love with the other.

Still wishing he could pour himself a drink (or, better yet, take a drink straight from the bottle), he closed the lid of his laptop and settled himself in on the couch for the night.

* * *

If he expected the next morning to go better, he would have been sorely disappointed.

Their spat last night aside, he had hoped Balthazar would drive him to the airport so he didn't have to leave Bones there for three days. But when he woke up, the singer was gone and Lindsey wasn't parked out front, so he took that as a _fend for yourself_ indication. He threw some clothes in a bag and put his suit in a garment bag and put it all in the passenger's seat of the hearse.

He hadn't slept too well on the sofa, so when he finally got seated on the plane, he fell asleep almost immediately. Fortunately, there weren't many people heading to Mississippi that day, so he was able to make himself comfortable right away without someone right next to him.

He woke up just as the plane landed and peeled himself off his seat to stumble toward the exit. As soon as he picked up his garment bag from the luggage carousel, he went outside to wait for his mother. She knew he was coming and when, so she was only about ten minutes later in arriving.

The whole time, though, he just kept wondering what was going on with him and Balthazar.

The blonde didn't text him or call him. To be fair, Lu didn't initiate contact, either, but he figured that was Balthazar's responsibility—after all, he'd been the one to storm off in a huff the night before.

Lu slipped the chain with the key over his head and into his pocket once he was ensconced in his hotel room. The ride to the hotel had been quiet; he hadn't felt like saying anything about either his father or the situation with Balthazar. He didn't know how he would have told her about the fight, anyway. After all, the one and only time she'd seen them together, Balthazar had been the picture of a caring, devoted boyfriend. His stomach clenched to remember how quickly it had all spiraled down the drain. One minute, everything was fine, and the next minute, he wasn't even sure if they were still together. They'd left a lot horribly unsaid.

There was a dinner that night that his aunt Lisa hosted at her house. The house was full of his cousins and second cousins, the oldest of whom was twenty-one and the youngest of whom was four months. He caught most of the older kids and a lot of the adults giving him strange looks, but he dismissed it at first. It was a bit surreal to be in such close proximity to so many kids all of a sudden. The last time this had happened, he'd been a kid himself. Still, it was a bit of a shock when one of the children, a little girl who couldn't have been older than two, wandered over to him and said, "Hi, Uncle Ross!" in her tiny baby voice.

His father's name had been Ross. Before he could even come up with a response, her father came swooping in and picked her up. "Sorry," he said quickly. "She... she thinks you're your dad. You're Lucifer Harrison, right?"

"Lu. _Pellegrino,"_ he added sharply. His mom had gone back to her maiden name after leaving his dad, and Lu's last name had changed, too.

"Right. Yeah, sorry." He gave Lu an embarrassed grin. "I'm Peter. Lydia's husband," he added, indicating the oldest of his cousins, another strawberry blonde. He barely remembered her—she would have been three when his mother took him away.

"Oh. Hi." So, he resembled his father. He didn't know why that surprised him, since he definitely didn't look like his mother. He hadn't really been able to remember what Ross Harrison looked like, though—all he remembered was a pair of cold blue eyes.

He managed to stay in the background for the remainder of the evening. Only his mother approached him toward the end. "You've been sulking all night."

"Should I be excited to be here?"

"Well, I suppose not. How have you been holding up?"

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Not looking forward to tomorrow."

"I know, but we leave on Tuesday. It's not so bad."

Part of him wanted to tell her what had happened with him and Balthazar, but he didn't know exactly what _had_ happened.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

And just like that, the levee broke. With a sigh, he said, "We had a fight. Me and Balthazar, last night. He thinks I'm embarrassed to be with him or something and I'm _not_ , I just don't want to rush into telling the guys about something like this if it's not gonna last, only the thing is, I _want_ it to last but now I think we may have broken up and... and it sucks." It had been less than twenty-four hours since the last time he'd seen Balthazar, but he missed him a lot.

"Everything seemed okay with you yesterday," Melinda said softly.

"Yeah, I know. But then we got home last nights and he asked me if I wanted him to come with me and... well, yeah, I wanted him to be here, but..."

"But you still want to keep this from the rest of your band," she guessed.

"Yeah, basically. And I couldn't do that if he came with me."

"Look, Lu. I won't pretend to be an expert on relationships or anything. But if you really want this to work with him, you can't keep it from the people closest to you. Why is it such a big deal to you?"

For the first time, he really thought about it, and he finally realized he didn't want to shake up the band over something that might not last. The fact that he did want it to last was irrelevant, though—it hadn't really felt like a permanent thing. That's what he was waiting for—an indication that this would be something more that just a fling, that they actually both wanted to see where this relationship went. But now he didn't even know if Balthazar wanted to stick around. "I don't know if we want the same thing," he said finally.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Something long-term."

"Honey. You said he offered to come here with you, right?"

"Yeah, he did."

"He probably wouldn't have offered if _he_ didn't want something long-term as well."

Lu was silent for a few minutes as he mulled this over. She was probably right—Balthazar wasn't the type to suggest such a drastic action for nothing. And then the fight... it was obvious he cared enough to let his emotions show through. For the most part, when he was annoyed, he just showed idle condescension. He hadn't even gotten sharp with Lu after he'd punched him.

And for all his talk of "maybe this should just be over," he hadn't actually asked Lu to take off the bike lock.

He glanced at his mother, who was regarding him with a concerned look. "Yeah, I think you're right."

She scanned their relatives momentarily. "I think," she said hesitantly, "that maybe you don't need to be here. I think you're probably needed back home." She glanced up at him. Lu had started flat-out staring at her. "You left the state right after a fight. I'm assuming you didn't resolve everything you needed to. Lu, your father's dead and nothing's going to change that. But this shouldn't be what ruins your relationship with Balthazar. You need to go back and get this straightened out, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You don't know what tomorrow will bring. You should go."

Lu gave one quick nod before seeing himself out, dialing a cab as he went.

* * *

He packed up (not that he'd done much in the way of unpacking in the first place), changed his departure flight to the soonest he could (it left at midnight, giving him about four hours to get to the airport), checked out of the hotel early (fortunately, they didn't charge him for the one night he wouldn't be using), and took the hotel shuttle back to the airport. He wasn't too hung-up on missing his dad's funeral in light of the crap that had gone down with him and Balthazar. There were more important things to worry about than some dead asshole who hadn't been in his life anyway.

He went back home hoping it wasn't too late to fix things and trying not to remember that sleeping without Balthazar next to him was nearly impossible.


	24. Down Here (With the Rest of Us)

It was only about two in the morning local time when he landed back in California, so the airport was nearly deserted. He knew he should have been exhausted, but he was wired from the nap he'd just taken on the plane and anticipation of seeing Balthazar again. His mom was right—he needed to get this sorted out and he would wake up Balthazar if need be. They were done with putting off conversations they needed to have.

Bones roared to life and it seemed like it had been longer than a day since he'd been in the car last. Part of him still wasn't exactly sure what day it was even though he reminded himself it was Monday morning. His dad wasn't even in the ground yet, wouldn't be until twelve-thirty California time. He didn't know what his mother was going to say to smooth things over with the paternal side of the family, but he didn't really care. He didn't owe them anything, anyway. The only ones in his family he really owed anything to was his mom and Raphael's family. They were more his family than anyone in the Harrison or most of the Pellegrino family had been to him anyway.

By two-thirty, he'd pulled back up to the house, relieved to see that Lindsey was parked out front. He dragged his duffel bag and garment bag out of the back and hurried inside, unlocking the front door with his house key.

To his utter surprise, the TV in the living room was on, and Balthazar was sitting right there on the sofa. He was awake, too, to further Lu's surprise. The moment the door open, he spun around, his expression visibly puzzled in the flickering light of what looked like an episode of _Torchwood_. "Luce?"

Lu immediately set down his bags and closed the door behind him. "We need to talk."

"It's Monday, isn't it? You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon."

"I came back early."

Balthazar blinked and shook his head. "I'm just having a very vivid dream right now."

Lu very nearly rolled his eyes. "No, you're not. I am actually here right now." By this time, he was directly in front of Balthazar, and he reached for the remote to turn off the TV before flipping on the lamp next to the sofa.

"What... what are you doing here?"

"I told you. We need to talk. My mom's covering for me at the funeral."

"You're going to miss it."

"I don't give a flying fuck, Balthy. We need to figure this out. This thing with us."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Like Hell, there isn't. I don't even know if we're still together right now, but you can bet your ass I want to be, okay? I don't know how you came to the conclusion that I'm embarrassed by you, because I'm fucking _not_. I also don't know why you wanted to wait until I was about to leave for three days before we had that argument, but..." His voice trailed off. There was just a full stop there. He had no idea why Balthazar freaked out right before what would no doubt be a brief but emotionally draining separation. "Why aren't you asleep, anyway?"

The singer didn't look up at him. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I seem to have... gotten more attached than I previously anticipated. I don't know how to... how to say this. Maybe it's for the best, though. I'm almost glad you didn't tell them about us. They won't have to—"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa. Back the fuck up. You said you got more attached than you expected, and then in the same breath, you tell me we _should_ break up. Those are some mixed fucking signals, if nothing else is. I'm really confused right now. Do you want to break up with me or not?"

After a moment, Balthazar shook his head. "No. I don't. Honestly, it's the last thing I want."

"Then why even bother bringing it up?"

"I... I don't want to get hurt."

 _Now_ he could see it. He could sense what was really going on under the surface there; he probably found it as difficult to sleep on his own as Lu did, but Balthazar needed to _say_ it. Lu crouched down in front of him so Balthazar was forced to meet his gaze and held his hand. "That's right at the top of my list of Things I'm Not About to Do. So why don't you explain what's really going on, huh?"

He'd never seen such a vulnerable expression on his face, and Lu wished he could give him a reassuring kiss. Both of their facial piercings were still healing, though, and each other's germs certainly wouldn't aid the healing process. So quietly his lips barely moved—although the hoops through his lips caught the light as he spoke—the blonde murmured, "I don't feel like this about anyone. I just don't."

"Feel like what?"

"I... I love you."

Lu's heart stopped for a moment before it started beating faster than ever. He was so overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him that he very nearly did. At the last second, though, he remembered and just rested his forehead against Balthazar's, moving his other hand to the back of his neck. "Really?"

Balthazar hesitated for a minute. And then he nodded, two quick twitches of his head. "Yeah. I do. I love you."

"You know I can't sleep without you next to me," Lu said. "You've seen me at my worst—a lot more than I ever expected—and you still love me. I don't get it, but believe me, I love you, too. You fought to get me to even take this chance with you, so I'm not just gonna let you let it go so easily." His heart was pounding and he felt a bit dizzy but he suddenly knew without a doubt that he was definitely in love with Balthazar Roché. There was not a single part of him that was unsure. He just _was_. And damned if he was going to give him up so easily, not after he'd been so convinced to even consider something this outrageously stupid. Maybe it _was_ stupid, but he was in too deep now to not see it through to the end, whatever that may be—death or breakup, he had to know.

"You love me?" Balthazar sounded almost afraid to believe him.

"Yes, I do. Okay? I know we both need work, but I want to see where this goes. You just have to be patient with me. I want to be with you. I want to be able to tell the whole fucking world that I love you. You just have to give me a little bit of time, okay?"

Balthazar nodded, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his mouth. "I can wait." Now that they'd acknowledged the fact that they were actually in love with each other, it was easier. Everything had taken on the fuzzy sheen of the newly enamored. It was better than Lu had felt in a long time, and he moved his head to nuzzle the side of Balthazar's neck, half-tempted to just take out his tongue piercing so he could bite at his neck.

Balthazar's hands went right to his hair, running through the strawberry-blond strands falling over his ears and down the back of his neck. Lu raised himself from his crouching position and maneuvered so Balthazar was lying back on the sofa, never breaking contact with each other.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," the singer murmured, "but I believe this is about when our young couple usually retires to the bedroom."

"Shut up. I'm enjoying myself," Lu joked, still nuzzling his neck while one of his hands slipped under Balthazar's shirt.

"If you insist. As long as there's some hardcore shagging going on in my future."

"There will be. Just give me a minute. I missed you."

"You were only gone for a day."

"Too long. You were right. You should have come with me."

Balthazar made a pleased humming sound. "I'm right—just what a girl likes to hear."

Lu snorted with laughter. "I love you," he said, just because he could.

The blonde froze for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around Lu. "I love you, too."

They lay there for a few more minutes, holding each other and enjoying being close again. He loved the feeling of having Balthazar right there, no tension between them, only cleared air and a sense of satisfaction, shirts and jeans and boxers and the bike lock around the singer's neck. But then Balthazar shifted underneath him and Lu felt a definite bulge in the singer's jeans. "Hmm," he murmured, sliding his hand back down the blonde's side to his hip. He pushed himself up to look down at him. "Maybe you've waited long enough."

" _I_ could have told you that," Balthazar said. There was an expression of such extreme petulance that Lu could tell it was an act. He was still just pleased to have things between them mended.

"Come on," Lu said, taking Balthazar's hand again and helping him off the couch.

Neither of them liked to not be able to kiss each other, but Lu was determined to make this as enjoyable as possible. He pressed Balthazar against the bedroom door and swept his shirt over his head, running his nose over his skin as if he could absorb the singer's scent. Without the smell of menthol cigarettes clinging to him, his scent was even more intoxicating.

He felt Balthazar tugging at his shirt, too, and he leaned back just long enough to remove it. Then he leaned back into Balthazar, nuzzling into his neck again as the other man asked softly, "Where's your chain?"

"Pocket. Hang on."

But Balthazar was already reaching into his front pocket and pulling out the chain with the key attached to it. He slipped the chain over Lu's head and brought their foreheads together again, as intimate as they could get without kissing, and Lu could feel that he wouldn't take this chain off again.

The bedroom door slammed behind them as they shimmied out of their jeans, easing back onto the bed. It was the worst kind of torture to not be able to kiss each other—Lu was desperate to bite him, to mark him, to claim him as his own, and damn the whole world, and it was pretty clear that Balthazar would have been okay with it.

 _It's not like we're swapping spit_ , he reasoned to himself before he lowered his head and sank his teeth into the singer's neck.

Balthazar let out a ragged groan, immediately fisting Lu's hair and raising his hips to grind against the taller man's. Oh, yeah, Balthazar was definitely tired of waiting around. With a small smile, Lu scraped his teeth over the older man's skin as he drew back and started pushing off the blonde's boxers. Balthazar groaned again and wiggled to facilitate Lu's stripping of him before dragging down his underwear, too.

Lu leaned in to kiss him but remembered at the last possible second that they couldn't; he diverted his mouth just in time and nuzzled his cheek against Balthazar's, smiling as he realized neither of them had bothered to shave that day.

"Come on, love," Balthazar murmured. "Not gonna make me wait forever, are you?"

"Hadn't planned on it," Lu breathed, taking a moment to nibble on Balthazar's ear before he reached for the lube in the drawer.

The singer's moans filled the room as Lu slowly slipped one finger inside him, and then a second. With the addition of a third, Balthazar's grip on his hair sent sparks of pain and pleasure through him, and the blonde arched into his touches. "Please, love, need you so bad," he pleaded. "Missed you so much, need you to fuck me, missed you—oh, God, Luce, _please_..."

"Not letting you go again," Lu whispered, scraping his teeth over the shell of his ear. "Never."

Balthazar let out an unintelligible groan and rutted against Lu, desperate for friction and trying to fuck himself on his fingers.

 _Oh, Jesus_ , but if that wasn't the hottest, most debauched thing Lu had ever seen, he couldn't imagine what was. "I've got you," he breathed, withdrawing his fingers and running his nose across Balthazar's chest, reveling in how flushed and eager he was. He wanted to kiss him so badly it was almost a physical ache, but he knew they couldn't. It just made him more desperate to reacquaint their tonsils that he decided, the moment they could kiss again, they wouldn't leave the house all day. They would just stay home and make out.

And if it led to gratuitous sex, so be it.

He slicked up his cock and leaned his forehead against Balthazar's for a long, deliberately teasing moment, cradling the back of his neck. "I love you," he whispered, and without waiting for an answer, he pushed himself into Balthazar.

The singer gasped sharply and let out a long, wordless moan. As Lu set a slow, steady pace, Balthazar grabbed his arm and the bassist shifted his weight to slide his fingers through his lover's. It was more complete, more in-sync than he'd ever felt with him before, and all he wanted to do was leave hickeys on every inch of his flesh that he could reach. _You're mine. I love you so much and you're mine now. All mine._ The words, the intensity, stuck in his throat, and all he could do to convey how much he loved Balthazar was make tonight as sweet as possible for him. His rhythm never faltered and Balthazar was panting, arching against him, wrapping his legs around Lu's waist. "Please, love, faster!" he begged, tugging sharply on Lu's hair with his free hand. "Please..."

Lu didn't want to be rushed. Not tonight. He wanted to make love to him all night, wanted to never let him go again. The rest of the world could just go fuck themselves, in his opinion. He had no intention of leaving Balthazar able to walk for the next week.

He actually slowed his pace, and Balthazar let out a frustrated groan, murmuring something Lu couldn't quite make out. With his next thrust, Balthazar's moan got louder, and Lu realized why he couldn't understand him: the singer was speaking French. _Oh, fuck._

As if some barrier had been lifted, Balthazar started crying out in French, almost nonstop and even more desperate than he'd sounded before. Lu couldn't understand most of what he said, but he was pretty sure he caught _"je t'aime"_ which, he knew, was French for "I love you," but aside from that, he was clueless. It didn't matter, though. He didn't know what Balthazar was saying, but he sure liked the way he said it. And he'd been right—the blonde speaking French, especially in the throes of passion like this, would have gotten him turned on if he hadn't already been fucking him senseless, and apparently unable to speak English.

All of Lu's self-control snapped at once, and when his next thrust was harder, faster, Balthazar let out another loud moan, gasping out something in French, and he was lost. It devolved from tender lovemaking he'd been trying to make this to hard, dirty fucking that had Balthazar whimpering in pleasure and scratching up his back and tightening his grip on Lu's hand.

He bit down on Balthazar's ear and breathed, "God, that's so fucking hot... you're so fucking sexy... Come on, Balthy, I wanna hear how loud you can get."

The blonde groaned something before Lu gave another hard thrust and Balthazar nearly screamed something French. It should have been illegal to sound _that_ sexy, but Lu wanted to hear more. He gave up all hope of redeeming the night and just fucked into Balthazar as hard as he could while the singer gasped out something that sounded like it was encouragement and then the older man was clenching down on him, his grip on Lu's hand nearly crushing, and the loud moan had the right note of desperation, of completion, to let Lu know he was about to come.

He hadn't even touched the blonde's cock, and he wanted to see if he would actually come just from Lu fucking him. He cradled the back of Balthazar's head with his free hand, locking their gazes, and the singer's eyes never left his face. He let out a broken moan and breathed out what was definitely _"je t'aime"_ and came a beat later, waves of ecstasy crashing over him as he cried out, his bright blue eyes still fixed on Lu's.

Just like that, the intimacy returned, and Lu let out a small gasp, rocking his hips once, twice more before he spilled over, filling Balthazar and silently praying he never stopped coming because his lover was giving him a look that said he just wanted more.

But it ended and they clung to each other, panting and sweating but thoroughly satisfied.

"I'm bloody glad you're back," Balthazar finally said, laughing softly.

"Yeah, me too." Lu nuzzled into the side of his neck. "That was amazing, by the way."

"What was? The sex?"

"In general, yeah. I meant you speaking French, though."

Balthazar snorted. "What are you on about? I wasn't speaking French."

"Like Hell, you weren't. You were like, 'Oh, oh, _oh_ , _je t'aime_!' I couldn't understand most of what you were saying."

He was silent for a moment. "I really was speaking French, wasn't I?"

"That's what I've been saying."

"That... that's never happened to me before. Not consciously, anyway," he admitted sheepishly.

Lu grinned and wrapped his arms around his lover. "Well, then, I feel special." _I fucked him so hard he reverted to French. Nice._

Balthazar sidled under the covers, dragging the bassist along with him. "I don't want to go to the studio tomorrow," he murmured.

"You wanna stay here with me?"

The blonde nodded, gently running his fingers through Lu's hair.

It was hypnotic and almost put Lu to sleep, but he managed to keep his wits about him. "We'll just go in late. Around noon or something. It's..." He turned his head to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "It's almost four. That'll give us some time to sleep."

"Or we can just go in on Tuesday."

"We could, but... I don't know, Balthy, I was kinda thinking we could... we could tell them about us."

The silence was probably only about five seconds long, but to Lu it seemed like an eternity. "You're sure? You want to tell them?"

He loved Balthazar. Balthazar loved him. They wanted to make this work, to stick this out for the long haul. It was as much of a commitment as Lu could ask for right now. It was exactly what he'd been waiting for, even though he hadn't realized it too long ago. "Yeah. I'm sure. I absolutely want to tell them."

Even through the darkness, he could see the huge grin that blossomed across Balthazar's face. "Alright, love. We can go in tomorrow. Late, though. I'm going to be utterly useless until at least eleven."

Lu grinned as Balthazar rolled over in his arms, pressing his back to the strawberry blonde's chest. "I can live with that," he murmured. "Night. I love you," he added softly.

Balthazar gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I love you, too."


	25. Angel's Wings

Somehow, the buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his jeans on the floor ten feet away from the bed was enough to wake Lu. He stretched and blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window and gently disentangled himself from Balthazar so as not to wake him. As soon as he was sure the blonde was still asleep, he slunk over to his jeans and dug out his phone. He blinked at the caller ID and quickly answered. "Mom?"

"Morning, honey. I was just about to head out and go with your aunt Lisa to the funeral home, but I wanted to check up on you. Are things okay now?"

He couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. "Yeah. We talked and everything's fine now."

Melinda sighed with relief. "That's good. I'm glad to hear it."

"We, um... we're also gonna tell the band about us. Today, actually. But we were up late so we're not going into the studio until after noon, probably."

"That's also good news," she said carefully, and Lu got the feeling she was trying not to imagine why exactly they had been up late. "Well, I'm glad that everything worked itself out, so I'm going to let you go now. Have a good day, okay?"

"Yeah, you too. I mean, as well as you can, I guess. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Lu hung up and scrambled for the phone charger buried in Balthazar's nightstand. His phone was down to twenty percent and that needed to be fixed. He was actually surprised it had lasted this long.

He had just settled back into bed and enveloped the singer in his arms again when he asked sleepily, "What time is it?"

"Just a little after eight. Go back to sleep."

Balthazar sighed contentedly. "Just for a little longer. Need to get up."

Lu grinned in spite of himself. "How you're conscious right now, I'll never know. I thought for sure you'd have been out cold until ten or eleven."

"Mmm. I'm tired, but I don't want to sleep."

The strawberry blonde scraped his teeth over the back of Balthazar's neck, catching the bike chain between his teeth before he nuzzled his skin. "Well, I'm going back to sleep for a few more hours. Two flights in less than a day really fucked with my internal clock."

Balthazar laughed softly. "I believe it."

The next time they woke up, it was eleven-thirty and they both felt a lot better about being awake. They dressed quickly, not bothering to make breakfast at home even though they were both ravenous. Instead, they stopped at In-N-Out Burger for food on the way to the studio and ended up strolling into their recording room around one in the afternoon. Balthazar had two missed calls, one from Crowley and one from Castiel, neither of which he bothered to return since they were already on their way in.

The blonde sailed in first. "Sorry," he said in an obnoxiously casual tone. "Up late last night." This he said right as Lu closed the door behind them, and every eye immediately fixed on him.

"What are you doing here?" Raphael asked incredulously. "I thought you were in Mississippi. Your dad's funeral and everything?"

"I was, but... Well, I was needed here."

"Anything we have for you could have waited until tomorrow. You didn't have to rush back for us."

Balthazar settled himself on the couch, squeezing between Castiel and the arm of the sofa. Lu remained standing, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's... it's a bit more complicated than that."

"We're listening."

Here it was. The all-or-nothing moment that he'd been simultaneously dreading and looking forward to. And then he remembered he _still_ didn't know exactly what he was going to say. He let out a sigh. "Well, I've actually been dating someone for a few weeks now."

"Yeah, gathered that," Raphael half-joked, although there was a touch of snark in his voice.

"Yeah. Well, it's Balthazar."

There was a moment of silence, but suddenly Raphael turned to Gabriel. "Pay up, bitch."

The guitarist rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, but pulled out his wallet. "Twenty, forty, fifty. Here," he said, handing over two twenties and a ten.

Lu wasn't quite sure what to make of this. "What just happened? Did you guys have a bet on whether or not we'd start dating?"

"Actually," Castiel clarified, "the wager was not whether or not it would happen. It was merely _when_. Ray thought it would be less than six months and Gabriel thought it would be more."

Balthazar snorted with laughter, covering his mouth to stifle his giggles. Lu rolled his eyes, feeling like an idiot. Here, he'd been expecting this to be some dramatic reveal, and his bandmates had been making bets on it. Apparently, they really _hadn't_ been as subtle as he thought. "Alright, whatever," he muttered, feeling incredibly annoyed.

"Oh, relax," Balthazar said, grabbing his hand and tugging him to the couch. The singer pressed himself as close to the arm of the sofa as he could get, leaving barely enough room between him and Castiel for Lu to sit down as well. "You're fine," he added softly, just loudly enough for the bassist to hear him.

"So, anyway," Lu went on, "I needed to come back to get some shit straightened out here but that's been taken care of and I guess I'm missing my dad's funeral, which, honestly, I'm not that broken up about."

"Well, good. As long as you're okay. But since we now have both of you here as well, we really need to work on getting this last track hammered out. Oh, and Crowley stopped by today and we're meeting with a director on Wednesday for the music video for 'The Way That It Goes.'"

And as if nothing changed, they easily fell back into the pattern they'd had before of just being a regular band, trading witty comments, being assholes to each other. It surprised him, but maybe he'd underestimated them. Maybe they could all handle this.

* * *

"So. You're really okay with this? With me and Balthazar?" Lu clarified.

He and Raphael were outside. The drummer had just lit a cigarette and the strawberry blonde could only watch sullenly. He still had a few more days before he could smoke again, although he was starting to think he could stand to quit anyway. It wasn't like he'd smoked much before—he had usually been too broke to afford cigarettes very much, and he only smoked socially (unless he was bored).

Raphael exhaled slowly. He appeared to be weighing his words. "I'm not super ecstatic or anything, Lu. I mean, I'm happy for you—don't get me wrong. He's great. It's just... how awkward is it gonna be if the two of you happen to break up? I mean, I know you don't do PDA, which I appreciate because I don't want to see anyone playing tonsil hockey three feet away. But yeah, if you do, God forbid, break up, it's going to be a strain. That's my only concern right now. I just don't want this to be what fucks us up, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I definitely get where you're coming from. I had that same thought myself a lot. I told him quite a few times that this wouldn't be an issue if we weren't in the same band, but... It's hard to explain. I like him a lot."

"I could tell. That song we recorded last week—that was about him, wasn't it?"

Lu sighed. "Yeah. It was."

Raphael nodded. "I kind of thought something was going on with you two for awhile, but I didn't want to say anything. I wasn't sure if I was just imagining things or what. I mean, if I said something and it turned out I was wrong, _that_ could have gotten weird."

"But apparently you thought it was gonna happen."

"Well, _yeah._ The moment he walked into the audition, there was nothing but raw sexual tension between you two. It was pretty obvious he liked you. It just became a question of, how long could you resist?" the drummer joked.

Lu rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks. Nice to know my sex life's been the main topic of everyone's conversation."

"Oh, trust me, we only discussed it when we exhausted literally every other fucking topic. The shelf life of a Duracell came before your sex life."

The bassist couldn't stifle a snort of laughter. "Fair enough. Well, like I said, we've been together for a few weeks now. Officially, it was the night of the label party."

"Oh, yeah. That was the other thing. I kept wondering how your bike chain ended up around his neck."

"Yeah, that was me."

"Thought so."

"What about Gabe and Cas? Do you think they're okay with it?"

Raphael shrugged. "Probably. I mean, I can pretty much guarantee that Gabe thinks it's hilarious, and Cas knew about the bet and didn't try to discourage it, so he's probably not opposed to the idea. Just... you know, be smart about it. Have you talked about how public you're going to make it?"

Lu shook his head. "We still need to talk about that, but... come on, Ray. It took me four or five weeks for me to tell you guys about us. I sure as shit don't want a bunch of strangers in my business. I'm gonna want it kept pretty quiet."

"Yeah. It took you almost two weeks for you to tell me about you and Eve. You're a private kind of guy. I guess it doesn't surprise me."

Lu nodded and rubbed the back of his head. "So. You and Anna. What's going on there?"

Raphael's serious expression melted away at the sound of her name. "Nothing too serious yet, but I like her a lot. Pretty sure she likes me. We're dating but the implication is that we're still free to see other people. But I don't really want to. I like her a lot."

Lu grinned and ruffled his best friend's hair. "Well, good. It's been awhile since _you've_ been in a relationship."

"Quiet," Raphael said, but he was grinning now, too. "It's not an official relationship yet anyway. I think I'm gonna wait a little longer before I bring it up to her."

"Waiting until after we get back?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'll want to talk to her about it before and let her think about it while we're gone." He shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence borne of their eleven years as friends. Lu started to wonder why he'd wanted to keep his and Balthazar's actual relationship a secret from them for so long. Of course they would be okay with it.

Then he remembered Saturday night, when Raphael and Crowley had been talking with intense expressions. "Hey, what was Crowley talking to you about after the show?"

"Huh? Oh, that. He heard the track we recorded. He wanted to know what it was all about—who recorded it, who wrote it, all that crap. He seemed surprised when I told him it was just us. And Cas and Gabe haven't heard it yet. They don't even know it exists."

Lu chuckled softly. "Yeah, neither does Balthazar. I'm okay with just leaving it a surprise. I mean, Crowley's gonna let us put it on the record, right?"

Raphael nodded. "He liked it. He said it showed diversity. Something about, yeah, we make a great punk band, but this also showed that we had the capacity to be something more than just a Black Flag ripoff band."

Lu grinned. "Well, that's quite a compliment."

"Yeah, I figured you'd appreciate that one." The drummer let out a small sigh and took a drag on his cigarette. "Oh, I have a stupid question. Are you gonna tell Crowley about you and Balthy?"

"I... have no idea. Should I?"

Ray shrugged. "It might be information he should be aware of. You don't even have to make a big thing of it like you did in there. Just be like, 'By the way, I'm dating Balthazar. When are we arriving in Santa Barbara again?'"

Lu grinned and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't see that going over so well with Crowley."

"Well, not telling him probably won't go over so well with him, either."

"Good point. We'll see him this afternoon, right?"

"Yep. He's still showing up to kick us out of the studio."

"He just can't let that go, can he?" Lu joked.

When they got back inside the studio, Crowley was already there, staring at Lu like he wasn't sure if the bassist was actually there. "I heard you came back early. What's going on? This lot wouldn't tell me."

Lu nearly rolled his eyes. "I had some stuff to take care of here. It was more important than my dad's funeral which was over about three hours ago, anyway. Oh, and for the record, I'm dating Balthazar." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Balthazar nearly jump in shock. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting Lu to say that.

Crowley blinked in surprise. "Bloody idiots," he muttered. He said louder, "Alright, well, did they tell you about you meeting with a director—"

"On Wednesday, yeah. That information was passed on to me."

"Good. Now have any of you actually gotten any music recorded?"

"We got a bit of the next guitar part recorded," Raphael offered, grinning sheepishly.

"You need to get working on that now. I'll be back in an hour."

As soon as the door closed behind Crowley, Gabriel collapsed into mad cackling. "I thought he was gonna have a heart attack!" he giggled.

Lu just grinned and shook his head, crossing the room to sit back down next to Balthazar. Wordlessly, their hands found each other and they automatically intertwined their fingers. If anyone else noticed it, they didn't say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for the sequel, tentatively titled "The American Scream"!


End file.
